Page 182 - The Love Hypothesis

“Right?” He grinned. “Adam would hate it with the intensity of a

thousand suns.”
He really would.
“But I could tell you so many juicy stories about him, approximately

aged ten to twenty-five.” Holden was delighted at the prospect. “He’d be
mortified.”

“Are they about taxidermy?”
“Taxidermy?”

“Nothing. Just something Tom had said about . . .” She waved her hand.
“Nothing.”

Holden’s gaze turned sharp. “Adam said you might be going to work
with Tom next year. Is that true?”
“Oh . . . yeah. That’s the plan.”

He nodded, pensive. Then seemed to come to some sort of decision and
added, “Watch your back while you’re around him, okay?”

“My back?” What? Why? Did this have anything to do with what Adam
had mentioned—Holden not liking Tom? “What do you mean?”

“Adam’s back, too. Especially Adam’s back.” Holden’s expression
remained intense for a moment, and then lightened up. “Anyway. Tom only

met Adam in grad school. But I was there in his teenage years—that’s when
the good stories are from.”
“Oh. You probably shouldn’t tell me. Since . . .” Since he’s faking a

relationship with me and surely doesn’t want me in his business. Also, he’s
probably in love with someone else.

“Oh, of course. I’ll wait until he’s present. I want to see his face when I
tell you everything about his newsboy-cap phase.”

She blinked. “His . . . ?”
He nodded solemnly and stepped out, closing the door behind him and

leaving her alone in the chilly, semidark lab. Olive had to take several deep
breaths before she could focus on her work.
—