The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

that he wasn’t planning to. Olive just needed to follow his
lead.
Yes. Excellent plan. She had this in the bag.
Olive smiled, held on to her pumpkin spice latte, and
answered, “Yes, I’m Olive Smith, the—”
“Girlfriend I’ve heard so much about?”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. She swallowed. “Um, actually I—”
“Heard from whom?” Adam asked, frowning.
Dr. Benton shrugged. “Everyone.”
“Everyone,” Adam repeated. He was scowling now. “In
Boston?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are people at Harvard talking about my girlfriend?”
“Because you’re you.”
“Because I’m me?” Adam looked perplexed.
“There have been tears. Some hair-pulling. A few broken
hearts. Don’t worry, they’ll get over it.”
Adam rolled his eyes, and Dr. Benton returned his attention
to Olive. He smiled at her, offering his hand. “It’s very nice to
meet you. I had written off the whole girlfriend thing as
rumors, but I’m glad you . . . exist. Sorry, I didn’t catch your
name—I’m terrible at names.”
“I’m Olive.” She shook his hand. He had a nice grip, not
too tight and not too soft.
“Which department do you teach, Olive?”
Oh, crap. “Actually, I don’t. Teach, that is.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to assume.” He smiled,
apologetic and self-effacing. There was a smooth charm to
him. He was young to be a professor, though not as young as