The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

“Meow.”
I glance back at Guy. He’s busy explaining how to put on
Moana to someone very young, so I decide to investigate.
Most of the rooms are deserted, labs full of large, abstruse
equipment that looks like it belongs to . . . well. NASA. I hear
male voices somewhere in the building, but no sign of the—
“Meow.”
I turn around. A few feet away, staring at me with a curious
expression, is a beautiful young calico.
“And who might you be?” I slowly hold out my hand. The
kitten comes closer, delicately sniffs my fingers, and gives me
a welcoming headbutt.
I laugh. “You’re such a sweet girl.” I squat down to scratch
her under her chin. She nips my finger, a playful love bite.
“Aren’t you the most purr-fect little baby? I feel so fur-tunate
to have met you.”
She gives me a disdainful look and turns away. I think she
understands puns.
“Come on, I was just kitten.” Another outraged glare. Then
she jumps on a nearby cart, piled ceiling-high with boxes and
heavy, precarious-looking equipment. “Where are you going?”
I squint, trying to figure out where she disappeared, and
that’s when I realize it. The piece of equipment? The
precarious-looking one? It actually is precarious. And the cat
poked it just enough to dislodge it. And it’s falling on my
head.
Right.
About.
Now.
I have less than three seconds to move away. Which is too
bad, because my entire body is suddenly made of stone,