The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

little unsettling, the realization that sank into her as they got in
line to order their coffee.
Adam Carlsen was handsome.
Adam Carlsen, with his long nose and wavy hair, with his
full lips and angular face that shouldn’t have fit together but
somehow did, was really, really, really handsome. Olive had
no clue why it hadn’t registered before, or why what made her
realize it was him putting on a plain black shirt.
She willed herself to stare ahead at the drink menu instead
of his chest. In the coffee shop, there were a total of three
biology grad students, one pharmacology postdoc, and one
undergraduate research assistant eyeing them. Perfect.
“So. How are you?” she asked, because it was the thing to
do.
“Fine. You?”
“Fine.”
It occurred to Olive that maybe she hadn’t thought this
through as thoroughly as she should have. Because being seen
together might have been their goal, but standing next to each
other in silence was not going to fool anyone into thinking that
they were blissfully dating. And Adam was . . . well. He
seemed unlikely to initiate any kind of conversation.
“So.” Olive shifted her weight to the balls of her feet a
couple of times. “What’s your favorite color?”
He looked at her, confused. “What?”
“Your favorite color.”
“My favorite color?”
“Yep.”
There was a crease between his eyes. “I—don’t know?”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”