Page 195 - The Love Hypothesis

He gave her a puzzled look. “I got the booking confirmation the other

day. I can forward it to you if you want; it says that—”
“It doesn’t matter what it says. It’s always one bed.”
He stared at her, perplexed, and she sighed and leaned helplessly against

the back of her chair. He’d clearly never seen a rom-com or read a romance
novel in his life. “Nothing. Ignore me.”

“My symposium is part of a satellite workshop the day before the
conference starts, and then I’ll be speaking on the first day of the actual

conference. I have the room for the entire conference, but I’ll probably need
to leave for some meetings after night two, so you’d be by yourself from

night three. We’d only overlap for one night.”
She listened to the logical, methodical way he listed sensible reasons
why she should just accept his offer and felt a wave of panic sweep over

her. “It seems like a bad idea.”
“That’s fine. I just don’t understand why.”

“Because.” Because I don’t want to. Because I have it bad. Because I’d
probably have it even worse, after that. Because it’s going to be the week of

September twenty-ninth, and I’ve been trying hard not to think about it.
“Are you afraid that I’ll try to kiss you without your consent? To sit on

your lap, or fondle you under the pretext of applying sunscreen? Because I
would never—”
Olive chucked her phone at him. He caught it in his left hand, studied its

glitter amino-acid case with a pleased expression, and then carefully set it
next to her laptop.

“I hate you,” She told him, sullen. She might have been pouting. And
smiling at the same time.

His mouth twitched. “I know.”
“Am I ever going to live that stuff down?”

“Unlikely. And if you do, I’m sure something else will come up.”
She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, and they exchanged a
small smile.

“I can ask Holden or Tom if I can stay with them, and leave you my
room,” he suggested. “But they know that I already have one, so I’d have to