Page 296 - The Love Hypothesis

career that fucking well-known, successful scholars is how to get ahead.

You fucked Adam, didn’t you? We both know you’re going to fuck me for the
same reason.”
“What the—” Tom took a step forward, hand extended to grab the phone

from Olive. He didn’t get far, because Adam pushed him away with a palm
on his chest, making him stumble several steps back.

He still wasn’t looking at Tom. And not at Olive, either. He was staring
down at her phone, something dark and dangerous and frighteningly still in

his expression. She should have probably been scared. Maybe she was, a
little.

“—you’re telling me you thought your pitiful abstract was selected for a
talk because of its quality and scientific importance? Someone here has a
very high opinion of herself, considering that her research is useless and

derivative and that she can barely put together two words without stuttering
like an idiot—”

“It was him,” Adam whispered. His voice was low, barely a whisper,
deceptively calm. His eyes, unreadable. “It was Tom. The reason you were

crying.”
Olive could only nod. In the background, Tom’s recorded voice droned

on and on. Talking about how mediocre she was. How Adam would never
believe her. Calling her names.
“This is ridiculous.” Tom was coming closer again, reattempting to take

the phone away. “I’m not sure what this bitch’s problem is, but she’s clearly
—”

Adam exploded so fast, she didn’t even see him move. One moment he
stood in front of her, and the next he was pinning Tom against the wall.

“I’m going to kill you,” he gritted out, little more than a growl. “If you
say another word about the woman I love, if you look at her, if you even

think about her—I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“Adam—” Tom choked out.
“Actually, I will kill you anyway.”

People were running toward them. The hostess, a waiter, a few faculty
members from Adam’s table. They were forming a crowd, yelling in