Page 60 - The Love Hypothesis
P. 60

She had to clear her throat and shake herself out of inspecting the shape

                and color of his cheekbones.
                    “No  sex,”  she  repeated.  “Okay.  Third.  It’s  not  really  a  rule,  but  here
                goes: I won’t date anyone else. As in real dating. It would be messy and

                complicate everything and . . .” Olive hesitated. Should she tell him? Was it
                too much information? Did he need to know? Oh, well. Why not, at this

                point? It wasn’t like she hadn’t kissed the man, or brought up sex in his
                place  of  work.  “I  don’t  date,  anyway.  Jeremy  was  an  exception.  I’ve

                never . . . I’ve never dated seriously before, and it’s probably for the best.
                Grad school is stressful enough, and I have my friends, and my project on

                pancreatic cancer, and honestly there’s  better things to use  my time for.”
                The last few words came out more defensively than she’d intended.
                    Adam just stared and said nothing.

                    “But you can date, of course,” she added hastily. “Though I’d appreciate
                it if you could avoid telling people in the department, just so I don’t look

                like  an  idiot  and  you  don’t  look  like  you’re  cheating  on  me  and  rumors
                don’t balloon out of control. It would benefit you, too, since you’re trying to

                look like you’re in a committed relationship—”
                    “I won’t.”

                    “Okay. Great. Thanks. I know lying by omission can be a pain, but—”
                    “I mean, I won’t date someone else.”
                    There was a certainty, a finality in his tone that took her by surprise. She

                could only nod, even though she wanted to protest that he couldn’t possibly
                know, even though a million questions surfaced in her mind. Ninety-nine

                percent  of  them  were  inappropriate  and  not  her  business,  so  she  shooed
                them away.

                    “Okay.  Fourth.  We  obviously  can’t  keep  on  doing  this  forever,  so  we
                should give ourselves a deadline.”

                    His lips pressed together. “When would that be?”
                    “I’m not sure. A month or so would probably be enough to convince
                Anh that I’m firmly over Jeremy. But it might not be enough on your end,

                so . . . you tell me.”
                    He mulled it, and then nodded once. “September twenty-ninth.”
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