The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

one patent. Olive, on the other hand, had cheap knockoff
reagents and old pipettes that regularly got stolen. She tried
not to dwell on how much further ahead than her he was in his
career, but it was unforgettable, how good he was at what he
did. How annoyingly good.
“My point is, this is not an insurmountable problem. And
we’re actively working on it. We’re in this together, showing
people that you’re going to stay here forever because of your
amazing girlfriend.”
Olive pointed to herself with a flourish, and his glare
followed her hand. Clearly he was not a fan of rationalizing
and working through his emotions.
“Or, you could stay mad, and we could go to your lab and
throw test tubes full of toxic reagents at each other until the
pain of third-degree burns overrides your shitty mood? Sounds
like fun, no?”
He looked away and rolled his eyes, but she could see it in
the curve of his cheeks that he was amused. Likely against his
will. “You are such a smart-ass.”
“Maybe, but I’m not the one who grunted when I asked
how your week was.”
“I did not grunt. And you ordered me chamomile tea.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
They were quiet for a few moments as she chewed through
the first bite of her Danish. Once she’d swallowed she said,
“I’m sorry about your funds.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry about the mood.”
Oh. “It’s okay. You’re famous for that.”
“I am?”
“Yep. It’s kind of your thing.”