The Love Hypothesis

by Ali Hazelwood

He shrugged. “I must be mistaken, then. Someone else must have assaulted me.” “Assault—I didn’t ‘assault’ you.” “You did kiss me.”

You know his reputation, right? Is it some kind of joke? Do you have a brain tumor? Do I have a brain tumor?”

“Where were you born?” she asked. “Is this another one of your green card marriage interview questions?” She giggled. He smiled in response,

He lifted his fingers to his lips, then let his arm drop to his side.

she had the impression of knuckles brushing against the back of her hand.

“Likely. Actually, scratch that, you probably don’t like ice cream anyway, because you don’t enjoy anything that’s good in life.” She kept on walking, pensively chewing on her lower lip. “Maybe the cafeteria has some raw broccoli?” “I don’t deserve this verbal abuse on top of the flu shot.”

It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when she was sitting on her bed staring at the Boston skyline and chewing on her lunch, that Olive realized that the protein bar Adam had given her was covered in chocolate.

“Where do you want to go, smart-ass?” “Let’s see…What do you like? Aside from tap water and hard-boiled spinach?”

“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.”

“I am going to take care of this,” he told her. There was something determined, earnest in his eyes. Olive had never felt safer, or more loved. “And then I’ll come find you, and I’ll take care of you.”

“Because,” he said, holding Olive’s eyes, “burgers taste like foot.”

“Ik hou van jou, Adam.”