Page 196 - The Love Hypothesis

come up with excuses—”

“No, I’m not going to kick you out of your room.” She ran a hand
through her hair and exhaled. “You’d hate it.”
He tilted his head. “What?”

“Rooming with me.”
“I would?”

“Yeah. You seem like a person who . . .” You seem like you like to keep
others at arm’s length, uncompromising and ever so hard to know. You seem

like you care very little about what people think of you. You seem like you
know what you’re doing. You seem equally horrible and awesome, and just

the thought that there’s someone you’d like to open up to, someone who’s
not me, makes me feel like I can’t sit at this table any longer. “Like you’d
want your own space.”

He held her gaze. “Olive. I think I’ll be fine.”
“But if you end up not being fine, then you’d be stuck with me.”

“It’s one night.” His jaw clenched and relaxed, and he added, “We are
friends, no?”

Her own words, thrown back at her. I don’t want to be your friend, she
was tempted to say. Thing was, she also didn’t want to not be his friend.

What she wanted was completely outside of her ability to obtain, and she
needed to forget it. Scrap it from her brain.
“Yes. We are.”

“Then, as a friend, don’t force me to worry about you using public
transportation late at night in a city you’re not familiar with. Biking on

roads without bike lanes is bad enough,” he muttered, and she immediately
felt a weight sink into her stomach. He was trying to be a good friend. He

cared for her, and instead of being satisfied with what she currently had, she
had to ruin it all and—and want more.

She took a deep breath. “Are you sure? That it wouldn’t bother you?”
He nodded, silent.
“Okay, then. Okay.” She forced herself to smile. “Do you snore?”

He huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on. How can you not know?”