Page 207 - The Love Hypothesis

myself with my iPhone, anyway.” She rolled her eyes. “For Dr. Aslan. She

couldn’t come to the conference, but she said she wants to listen to my first
talk. I can send it to you, if you’re a fan of stammering and secondhand
embarrassment.”

“I’d like that.”
Olive flushed and changed the topic. “Is that why you have a room for

the entire length of the conference even though you’re not staying? Because
you’re a big shot?”

He frowned. “I’m not.”
“Can I call you ‘big shot’ from now on?”

He sighed, walking to the bedside table and pocketing the USB she’d
noticed earlier. “I have to take my slides downstairs, smart-ass.”
“Okay.” He could leave. It was fine. Totally fine. Olive didn’t let her

smile falter. “I guess I’ll maybe see you after my talk, then?”
“Of course.”

“And after yours. Good luck. And congrats. It’s such a huge honor.”
Adam didn’t seem to be thinking about that, though. He lingered by the

door, his hand on the knob as he looked back at Olive. Their eyes held for a
few moments before he told her, “Don’t be nervous, okay?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I’ll just do what Dr. Aslan
always says.”
“And what’s that?”

“Carry myself with the confidence of a mediocre white man.”
He grinned, and—there they were. The heart-stopping dimples. “It will

be fine, Olive.” His smile softened. “And if not, at least it will be over.”
It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when she was sitting on her bed

staring at the Boston skyline and chewing on her lunch, that Olive realized
that the protein bar Adam had given her was covered in chocolate.

—

SHE CHECKED WHETHER she had the correct room for the third time—nothing

like talking about pancreatic cancer to a crowd that expected a presentation
on the Golgi apparatus to make an impression—and then felt a hand close