Page 51 - The Love Hypothesis

optics are that I have not put down roots because I want to be able to flee

Stanford at the drop of a hat.”
“Roots?”
“Most of my grads will be done within the year. I have no extended

family in the area. No wife, no children. I’m currently renting—I’d have to
buy a house just to convince the department that I’m committed to staying,”

he said, clearly irritated. “If I was in a relationship . . . that would really
help.”

Okay. That made sense. But. “Have you considered getting a real
girlfriend?”

His eyebrow lifted. “Have you considered getting a real date?”
“Touché.”
Olive fell silent and studied him for a few moments, letting him study

her in return. Funny how she used to be scared of him. Now he was the only
person in the world who knew about her worst fuckup ever, and it was hard

to feel intimidated—even harder, after discovering that he was the kind of
person who’d be desperate enough to pretend to date someone to get his

research funds back. Olive was sure that she would do the exact same for
the opportunity to finish her study on pancreatic cancer, which made Adam

seem oddly . . . relatable. And if he was relatable, then she could go ahead
and fake-date him, right?
No. Yes. No. What? She was crazy for even considering this. She was

certifiably mental. And yet she found herself saying, “It would be
complicated.”

“What would be?”
“To pretend that we’re dating.”

“Really? It would be complicated to make people think that we’re
dating?”

Oh, he was impossible. “Okay, I see your point. But it would be hard to
do so convincingly for a prolonged period.”
He shrugged. “We’ll be fine, as long as we say hi to each other in the

hallways and you don’t call me Dr. Carlsen.”
“I don’t think people who are dating just . . . say hi to each other.”