Page 126 - The Love Hypothesis

get a tan around it. She tried to imagine his face after taking off his T-shirt,

finding the five letters printed on his flesh in the reflection of his bathroom
mirror. The expression he’d make. Whether he’d touch them with his
fingertips.

Crazy, she told herself. This whole thing, it’s driving you crazy. So he’s
handsome, and you find him attractive. Big deal. Who cares?

She wiped her mostly lotion-free hands down the columns of his biceps
and took a step back. “You’re good to go, Dr. Antagonistic.”

He smelled of fresh sweat, himself, and coconut. Olive wasn’t going to
get to talk with him again until Wednesday, and why the thought came with

an odd pang in her chest, she had no clue.
“Thanks. And thank Anh, I guess.”
“Mm. What do you think she’ll have us do next time?”

He shrugged. “Hold hands?”
“Feed each other strawberries?”

“Good one.”
“Maybe she’ll up her game.”

“Fake wedding?”
“Fake-buy a house together?”

“Fake-sign the mortgage paperwork?”
Olive laughed, and the way he looked at her, kind and curious and
patient . . . she must be hallucinating it. Her head was not right. She should

have brought a sun hat.
“Hey, Olive.”

She tore her gaze from Adam’s and noticed Tom approaching. He, too,
was shirtless, and clearly fit, and had a large number of abs that were

defined enough to be easily counted. And yet, for some reason, it did
absolutely nothing for Olive.

“Hi, Tom.” She smiled, even though she was a little irritated by the
interruption. “Loved your talk the other day.”
“It was good, wasn’t it? Did Adam tell you about our change of plans?”

She tilted her head. “Change of plans?”