“Thank you. For buying me food.”
He glanced at her, crinkling his nose. “I don’t know that there was any food involved.”
She smiled, rolling to her side. “You’re not going out again?”
“Out?”
“Yeah. To meet other very important science people? Eat another seven pounds of edamame?”
“I think I’ve had enough networking and edamame for this decade.” He took off his shoes and socks, and set them neatly by the bed.
“You’re staying in, then?”
He paused and looked at her. “Unless you’d rather be alone?”
No, I would not. She propped herself up on her elbow. “Let’s watch a movie.”
Adam blinked at her. “Sure.” He sounded surprised but not displeased.
“But if your taste in movies is anything like your taste in restaurants, it’ll probably—”
He didn’t see the pillow coming at him. It bounced off his face and then fell to the floor, making Olive giggle and spring off the bed. “You mind if I shower, before?”
“You smart-ass.”
She started rummaging through her suitcase. “You can pick the movie! I don’t care which one, as long as there are no scenes in which horses are killed, because it— Crap.”
“What?”
“I forgot my pajamas.” She looked for her phone in the pockets of her coat. It wasn’t there, and she realized that she hadn’t brought it with her to the restaurant. “Have you seen my— Oh, there it is.”
The battery was almost dead, probably because she had forgotten to turn off the recording after her talk. She hadn’t checked her messages in a few hours, and found several unread texts—mostly from Anh and Malcolm, asking her where she was and if she still planned to come to the social, telling
her to get her ass there ASAP because “the booze is flowing like a river,” and then, finally, just informing her that they were all going downtown to a bar.
Anh must have been well on her way to wasted by that point, because her last message read: Clallif u want tp join ♥ us, Olvie
“I forgot my pajamas and wanted to see if I could borrow something from my friends, but I don’t think they’ll be back for hours. Though maybe Jess didn’t go with them, let me text and see if—”
“Here.” Adam set something black and neatly folded on her bed. “You can use this if you want.”
She studied it skeptically. “What is it?”
“A T-shirt. I slept in it yesterday, but it’s probably better than the dress you’re wearing. To sleep in, I mean,” he added, a faint flush on his cheeks.
“Oh.” She picked it up, and the T-shirt unfolded. She immediately noticed three things: it was large, so large that it would hit her mid-thigh or even lower; it smelled heavenly, a mix of Adam’s skin and laundry detergent that had her wanting to bury her face in it and inhale for weeks; and on the front, it said in big, white letters . . .
“ ‘Biology Ninja’?”
Adam scratched the back of his neck. “I didn’t buy it.”
“Did you . . . steal it?”
“It was a present.”
“Well.” She grinned. “This is one hell of a present. Doctor ninja.”
He stared at her flatly. “If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
She chuckled. “Are you sure it’s okay? What will you wear?”
“Nothing.”
She must have been gaping at him a little too much, because he gave her an amused look and shook his head.
“I’m kidding. I have a tee under my shirt.”
She nodded and hurried into the bathroom, making a point not to meet his eyes.
Alone under the hot jet of the shower it was much harder to concentrate on stale sushi and Adam’s uneven smile, and to forget why he’d ended up allowing her to cling to him for three whole hours. What Tom had done to
her today was despicable, and she was going to have to report him. She was going to have to tell Adam. She was going to have to do something. But every time she tried to think about it rationally, she could hear his voice in her head— mediocre and nice legs and useless and derivative and little sob story—so loud that she was afraid her skull would shatter into pieces.
So she kept her shower as quick as possible, distracting herself by reading the labels of Adam’s shampoo and body wash (something hypoallergenic and pH-balanced that had her rolling her eyes) and drying herself as fast as humanly possible. She took out her contacts, then stole a bit of his toothpaste.
Her gaze fell on his toothbrush; it was charcoal black, down to the bristles, and she couldn’t help but giggle.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing plaid pajama pants and a white T-shirt. He was holding the TV
