Page 223 - The Love Hypothesis

She shook her head. “I want to talk. Just, can we not talk about the

conference? Or science? Or the fact that the world is full of assholes?” And
that some of them are your close friends and collaborators?
His hand closed into a fist on the table, jaw clenched tight as he nodded.

“Awesome. We could chat about how nice this place is—”
“It’s appalling.”

“—or the taste of the sushi—”
“Foot.”

“—or the best movie in the Fast and Furious franchise—”
“Fast Five. Though I have a feeling you’re going to say—”

“Tokyo Drift.”
“Right.” He sighed, and they exchanged a small smile. And then, then
the smile faded and they just stared at each other, something thick and

sweet coloring the air between them, magnetic and just the right side of
bearable. Olive had to rip her gaze from his, because—no. No.

She turned away, and her eyes fell on a couple at a table a few feet to
their right. They were the mirror image of Adam and Olive, sitting on each

side of their booth, all warm glances and tentative smiles. “Do you think
they’re on a fake date?” she asked, leaning back against her seat.

Adam followed her gaze to the couple. “I thought those mostly involved
coffee shops and sunscreen applications?”
“Nah. Only the best ones.”

He laughed silently. “Well.” He focused on the table, and on angling his
chopsticks so that they were parallel to each other. “I can definitely

recommend it.”
Olive dipped her chin to hide a smile and then leaned forward to steal

one edamame.
—

ELEVATOR she held on to his biceps and took off her heels, failing
IN THE
disastrously at being graceful as he studied her and shook his head. “I

thought you said they didn’t hurt?” He sounded curious. Amused? Fond?