The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood
herring for breakfast on the reg. Maybe his mother had wantedhim to follow in her footsteps and become a diplomat, but hisshiny personality had emerged and she’d given up on thatdream. Olive found herself acutely eager to know more abouthis upbringing, which was . . . weird. Very weird.“Here you go.” Their drinks appeared on the counter. Olivetold herself that the way the blond barista was obviouslychecking out Adam as he turned to retrieve a lid for his cupwas none of her business. She also reminded herself that ascurious as she was about his diplomat mother, how manylanguages he spoke, and whether he liked tulips, it wasinformation that went well beyond their arrangement.People had seen them together. They were going to go backto their labs and tell improbable tales of Dr. Adam Carlsen andthe random, unremarkable student they’d spotted him with.Time for Olive to go back to her science.She cleared her throat. “Well. This was fun.”He looked up from his cup, surprised. “Is fake-datingWednesday over?”“Yep. Great job, team, now hit the showers. You’re freeuntil next week.” Olive stabbed her straw into her drink andtook a sip, feeling the sugar explode in her mouth. Whatevershe’d ordered, it was disgustingly good. She was probablydeveloping diabetes as she spoke. “I’ll see you—”“Where were you born?” Adam asked before she couldleave.Oh. They were doing this, then. He was probably justtrying to be polite, and Olive sighed inwardly, thinkinglongingly of her lab bench. “Toronto.”“Right. You’re Canadian,” he said, like he’d alreadyknown.“Yep.”
“When did you move here?”“Eight years ago. For college.”He nodded, as if storing up the information. “Why the US?Canada has excellent schools.”“I got a full ride.” It was true. If not the whole truth.He fidgeted with the cardboard cup holder. “Do you goback a lot?”“Not really, no.” Olive licked some whipped cream off herstraw. She was puzzled when he immediately looked awayfrom her.“Do you plan to move back home once you graduate?”She tensed. “Not if I can help it.” She had lots of painfulmemories in Canada, and her only family, the people shewanted nearby, were Anh and Malcolm, both US citizens.Olive and Anh had even made a pact that if Olive was ever onthe verge of losing her visa, Anh would marry her. Inhindsight, this entire fake-dating business with Adam wasgoing to be great practice for when Olive leveled up andstarted defrauding the Department of Homeland Security inearnest.Adam nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Favorite color?”Olive opened her mouth to tell him her favorite color,which was so much better than his, and . . . “Dammit.”He gave her a knowing look. “Difficult, isn’t it?”“There are so many good ones.”“Yup.”“I’m going to go with blue. Light blue. No, wait!”“Mmm.”“Let’s say white. Okay, white.”
- Page 34 and 35: she could find, petrified. She was
- Page 36 and 37: horrible at it, which meant that ea
- Page 38 and 39: ago—and Olive immediately underst
- Page 40: “Oh. Oh, no.” That would be way
- Page 43 and 44: caught Anh kissing Adam Carlsen, sh
- Page 45: that she didn’t even flip her off
- Page 48 and 49: “I cannot believe it.”“Believ
- Page 50 and 51: This was the worst. The absolute wo
- Page 52 and 53: It was true that Anh had seemed hap
- Page 54 and 55: seemed insane.“You mean . . . for
- Page 56 and 57: probably whacked someone on the hea
- Page 58 and 59: “What do people who are dating do
- Page 60: over you and am not involved in you
- Page 63 and 64: “About you.”“Oh.” Olive’s
- Page 65 and 66: “Though, I’ve been thinking abo
- Page 67 and 68: sexual intercourse between the two
- Page 69 and 70: “For this to work we should proba
- Page 71: talk about. Their ten-minute coffee
- Page 74 and 75: “The relationship, it’s fake. W
- Page 76 and 77: “I have, haven’t I? Did I ever
- Page 78 and 79: Olive nodded again. When a single t
- Page 80 and 81: little unsettling, the realization
- Page 82 and 83: Olive smiled back, gesturing at Ada
- Page 87 and 88: WAS LATE for her second fake-dating
- Page 89 and 90: “I worked.”They got in line to
- Page 91 and 92: department chair this morning. He
- Page 93 and 94: “Is that so?”“Mmm.”His mout
- Page 95 and 96: “The time difference screwed me u
- Page 97 and 98: that he wasn’t planning to. Olive
- Page 99 and 100: “That is, I, um . . . never put t
- Page 101 and 102: “What kind of question is that?
- Page 103 and 104: “Who?”“Tom,” Adam said, a t
- Page 105 and 106: Olive had no idea he was giving a t
- Page 107: Adam laughed silently just as Tom s
- Page 110 and 111: “Hey—sorry.” She gestured in
- Page 112 and 113: Because millions of dollars in rese
- Page 114 and 115: torso. He didn’t say anything but
- Page 116 and 117: pitch her voice. “Or do you maybe
- Page 118 and 119: Cherie just standing there, chattin
- Page 120 and 121: “Because you moved the truck. I
- Page 122 and 123: this time with the sleeve of his sh
- Page 124 and 125: “The— Oh.” Adam rolled his ey
- Page 127 and 128: with an uneasy expression and start
- Page 129 and 130: “Yeah, well.” He stood and walk
- Page 131: Olive: Did you just fail Greg?trick
“When did you move here?”
“Eight years ago. For college.”
He nodded, as if storing up the information. “Why the US?
Canada has excellent schools.”
“I got a full ride.” It was true. If not the whole truth.
He fidgeted with the cardboard cup holder. “Do you go
back a lot?”
“Not really, no.” Olive licked some whipped cream off her
straw. She was puzzled when he immediately looked away
from her.
“Do you plan to move back home once you graduate?”
She tensed. “Not if I can help it.” She had lots of painful
memories in Canada, and her only family, the people she
wanted nearby, were Anh and Malcolm, both US citizens.
Olive and Anh had even made a pact that if Olive was ever on
the verge of losing her visa, Anh would marry her. In
hindsight, this entire fake-dating business with Adam was
going to be great practice for when Olive leveled up and
started defrauding the Department of Homeland Security in
earnest.
Adam nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Favorite color?”
Olive opened her mouth to tell him her favorite color,
which was so much better than his, and . . . “Dammit.”
He gave her a knowing look. “Difficult, isn’t it?”
“There are so many good ones.”
“Yup.”
“I’m going to go with blue. Light blue. No, wait!”
“Mmm.”
“Let’s say white. Okay, white.”
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