Page 304 - The Love Hypothesis

“Which is that Malcolm and Adam hate each other.”

Next to her in the booth, Adam frowned in confusion. Malcolm, who
was sitting across from Olive, covered his face with his palms and groaned.
“I am reliably informed,” Holden continued, undeterred, “that Adam

called Malcolm’s experiments ‘sloppy’ and ‘a misuse of research funds’
during a committee meeting, and that Malcolm took offense to that. Now,

Adam, I’ve been telling Malcolm that you were probably just having a bad
day—maybe one of your grads had split an infinitive in an email, or your

arugula salad wasn’t organic enough. Do you have anything to say for
yourself?”

“Uh . . .” Adam’s frown deepened, and so did Malcolm’s facepalm.
Holden waited pointedly for an answer, and Olive watched it all unfold,
wondering if she should take out her phone and film this car crash. “I have

no recollection of that committee meeting. Though it does sound like
something I would say.”

“Great. Now tell Malcolm it wasn’t personal, so we can move on and
have fried rice.”

“Oh my God,” Malcolm muttered. “Holden, please.”
“I’m not having fried rice,” Adam said.

“You can have raw bamboo while the normal people have fried rice. But
as of right now, my boyfriend thinks that his BFF’s boyfriend and my own
BFF has it out for him, and it’s cramping my double-dating style, so

please.”
Adam blinked slowly. “BFF?”

“Adam.” Holden pointed at a grimacing Malcolm with his thumb. “Now,
please.”

Adam sighed heavily, but he turned to Malcolm. “Whatever I said or
did, it was not personal. I’ve been told that I can be needlessly antagonistic.

And unapproachable.”
Olive didn’t get to see Malcolm’s reaction. Because she was busy
studying Adam and the slight curl on his lips, the one that became an almost

smile when he looked at Olive and met her eyes. For a second, the brief
second she held his gaze before he looked away, it was just the two of them.