Page 97 - The Love Hypothesis

and clean. It all felt familiar, and after a few seconds Olive realized that it

was because of the last time they had been this close. Because of The Night.
Because of the kiss. “So, so sorry.”
He didn’t immediately answer. His jaw tensed, and he looked in the

direction of the PowerPoint. Dr. Moss was gone, Tom was talking about
cancer diagnostics, and Olive would have gobbled this up on a regular day,

but right now she just needed out. Of the talk. Of the room. Of her own life.
Then Adam turned his face a little and told her, “It’s okay.” He sounded

a bit strained. Like nothing about this situation was, in fact, okay.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea she would suggest this, and I couldn’t think of

a way to—”
“Sssh.” His arm slid around her waist, his hand coming to rest on her hip
in a gesture that should have been unpleasant but just felt reassuring. His

voice was low when he added, “It’s fine.” The words vibrated in her ear,
rich and warm. “More material for my Title IX complaint.”

Shit. “God, I’m so sorry—”
“Olive.”

She lifted her eyes to catch his and was shocked to find him . . . not
smiling, but something like it.

“I was kidding. You weigh nothing. I don’t mind.”
“I—”
“Ssh. Just focus on the talk. Tom might ask you questions about it.”

This was just . . . Seriously, this whole business, it was completely,
utterly . . .

Comfortable. Adam Carlsen’s lap was one of the most comfortable
places on earth, as it turned out. He was warm and solid in a pleasant,

soothing way, and he didn’t seem to mind too much having Olive half
draped over him. After a short while she realized that the room was truly

too full for anyone to be paying attention to them, except for a quick glance
from Holden Rodrigues, who studied Adam for a long moment and then
smiled warmly at Olive before focusing on the talk. She stopped pretending

to be able to hold her spine upright for more than five minutes and just let