Page 45 - The Love Hypothesis

The problem was, Carlsen wasn’t the only one to notice Olive. There

were over a dozen benches in the lab, and at least ten people working at
them. Most of them—all of them—were staring at Olive. Probably because
most of them—all of them—had heard that Olive was dating their boss.

Fuck her life.
“Can I talk to you for a minute, Dr. Carlsen?” Rationally, Olive knew

that the lab was not furnished in a way that made echoing possible. Still,
she felt as though her words bounced off the walls and repeated about four

times.
Carlsen nodded, nonplussed, and handed the Southern blot to Alex

before heading in her direction. He appeared either unaware or uncaring
that approximately two-thirds of his lab members were gaping at him. The
remaining ones seemed to be on the verge of a hemorrhagic stroke.

He led Olive to a meeting room just outside the main lab space, and she
followed him silently, trying not to dwell on the fact that a lab full of people

who thought that she and Carlsen were dating had just seen them enter a
private room. Alone.

This was the worst. The absolute worst.
“Everyone knows,” she blurted out as soon as the door closed behind

her.
He studied her for a moment, looking puzzled. “Are you okay?”
“Everyone knows. About us.”

He cocked his head, crossing his arms over his chest. It had been barely
a day since they’d last talked, but apparently long enough for Olive to have

forgotten his . . . his presence. Or whatever it was that made her feel like
she was small and delicate whenever he was around. “Us?”

“Us.”
He seemed confused, so Olive elaborated.

“Us, dating—not that we’re dating, but Anh clearly thought so, and she
told . . .” She realized that the words were tumbling out and forced herself
to slow down. “Jeremy. And he told everyone, and now everyone knows.

Or they think they know, even though there’s absolutely nothing to know.
As you and I know.”