Page 106 - The Love Hypothesis

They had kissed. They had kissed—twice, now. Twice. Not that it

mattered. No one cared. But. Twice. Plus, the lap. Earlier today. Again, not
that it mattered.
“I’ll see you around, right? Next week?”

He lifted his fingers to his lips, then let his arm drop to his side. “Yes.
On Wednesday.”

It was Thursday now. Which meant that they were going to see each
other in six days. Which was fine. Olive was fine, no matter when or how

often they met. “Yep. See you Wed— Hey, what about the picnic?”
“The— Oh.” Adam rolled his eyes, looking a little more like himself.

“Right. That fu—” He stopped short. “That picnic.”
She grinned. “It’s on Monday.”
He sighed. “I know.”

“You’re still going?”
He gave her a look that clearly stated: It’s not like I have a choice, even

though I’d rather have my nails extracted one by one. With pliers.
Olive laughed. “Well. I’m going, too.”

“At least there’s that.”
“Are you bringing Tom?”

“Probably. He actually likes people.”
“Okay. I can network with him a bit, and you and I can show off how
steady and committed we are to the department chair. You’ll look like a

wingless bird. No flight risk whatsoever.”
“Perfect. I’ll bring a counterfeit marriage license to casually drop at his

feet.”
Olive laughed, waved goodbye, and then jogged up to Anh. She rubbed

the side of her hand against her lips, as if trying to scrub her mind clean of
the fact that she had just kissed Adam—Dr. Adam Carlsen—for the second

time in her life. Which, again, was fine. It had been barely a kiss. Not
important.
“Well, then,” Anh said, tucking her phone into her pocket. “You really

just made out in front of the biology building with associate professor
Adam MacArthur Carlsen.”