Page 200 - The Love Hypothesis

Olive had never been a people pleaser, but Adam’s attitude toward

others’ perception of him was so cavalier, it was almost fascinating. “Do
you really not care?” she asked, curious. “That your grads might dislike you
as a person?”

“Nah. I don’t like them very much, either.” She thought of Jess and Alex
and the other half a dozen grads and postdocs mentored by Adam whom she

didn’t know very well. The thought of him finding them as annoying as
they found him despotic made her chuckle. “To be fair, I don’t like people

in general.”
“Right.” Don’t ask, Olive. Do not ask. “Do you like me?”

A millisecond of hesitation as he pressed his lips together. “Nope.
You’re a smart-ass with abysmal taste in beverages.” He traced the corner
of his iPad, a small smile playing on his lips. “Send me your slides.”

“My slides?”
“For your talk. I’ll take a look at them.”

Olive tried not to gape at him. “Oh—you . . . I’m not your grad. You
don’t have to.”

“I know.”
“You really don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said, voice pitched low and even as he looked into her
eyes, and Olive had to avert her gaze because something felt too tight in her
chest.

“Okay.” She finally managed to snap out the loose thread on her sleeve.
“How likely is it that your feedback will cause me to cry under the

shower?”
“That depends on the quality of your slides.”

She smiled. “Don’t feel like you have to hold back.”
“Believe me, I don’t.”

“Good. Great.” She sighed, but it was reassuring, knowing that he was
going to be checking her work. “Will you come to my talk?” she heard
herself ask, and was as surprised by the request as Adam seemed to be.

“I . . . Do you want me to?”