Page 315 - The Love Hypothesis

“Oh, yes. I did.” She let out a low laugh. “I didn’t know you were a

Trekkie.”
“I had a phase. And that year’s picnic, when we got rained on. You were
playing freeze tag with someone’s kids for hours. They loved you—they

had to physically peel the youngest off you to get him inside the car.”
“Dr. Moss’s kids.” She looked at him curiously. A light breeze rose and

ruffled his hair, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I didn’t think you liked kids.
The opposite, actually.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “I don’t like twenty-five-year-olds who act like
toddlers. I don’t mind them if they’re actually three.”

Olive smiled. “Adam, the fact that you knew who I was . . . Did it have
anything to do with your decision to pretend to date me?”
About a dozen expressions crossed his face as he looked for an answer,

and she couldn’t pick apart a single one. “I wanted to help you, Olive.”
“I know. I believe that.” She rubbed her fingers against her mouth. “But

was that all?”
He pressed his lips together. Exhaled. Closed his eyes, and for a split

second looked like he was having his teeth and his soul pulled out. Then he
said, resigned, “No.”

“No,” she repeated, pensive. “This is my place, by the way.” She pointed
at the tall brick building on the corner.
“Right.” Adam looked around, studying her street. “Should I carry your

bag upstairs?”
“I . . . Maybe later. There is something I need to tell you. Before.”

“Of course.”
He stopped in front of her, and she looked up at him, at the lines of his

handsome, familiar face. There was only fresh breeze between them, and
whatever distance Adam had seen fit to keep. Her stubborn, mercurial fake

boyfriend. Wonderfully, perfectly unique. Delightfully one of a kind. Olive
felt her heart overflow.
She took a deep breath. “The thing is, Adam . . . I was stupid. And

wrong.” She played nervously with a lock of her hair, then let her hand drift
down to her stomach, and—okay. Okay. She was going to tell him. She