Page 254 - The Love Hypothesis

“Maybe they don’t want to unknowingly have sex with people with

horrible, disfigured toes?”
“Do you have disfigured toes?”
“Truly grotesque. Circus-worthy. Antithetical to sex. Basically a built-in

contraceptive.”
He sighed, clearly amused. He was struggling to hold on to his moody,

broody, intense act, and Olive loved it.
“I’ve seen you in flip-flops multiple times. Which, by the way, are not

lab compliant.”
“You must be mistaken.”

“Really.”
“I don’t like what you’re insinuating, Dr. Carlsen. I take the Stanford
environmental health and safety guidelines very seriously and— What are

you—”
He was so much larger than her, he could hold her down with one hand

on her belly as he wrestled her out of her socks, and for some reason she
loved every moment of it. She put up a good fight, and maybe he’d have a

couple of bruises tomorrow, but when he finally managed to take them off,
Olive was out of breath from laughing. Adam caressed her feet reverently,

as though they were delicate and perfectly shaped instead of belonging to
someone who ran two marathons a year.
“You were right,” he said. Chest heaving, she looked at him curiously.

“Your feet are pretty hideous.”
“What?” She gasped and freed herself, pushing at his shoulder until he

ended up on his back under her. He surely could have unseated her, giant
that he was. And yet. “Take it back.”

“You said it first.”
“Take it back. My feet are cute.”

“In a hideous way, maybe.”
“That’s not a thing.”
His laugh blew warm against her cheek. “There’s probably a German

word for that. Cute, but exceptionally ugly.”