Ali Hazelwood

“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.

“You’re not going to slow down your pace to match mine, are you?”

“Of course I am.”

She sighed, slumping against the tiled wall. “It’s my contacts. They expired some time ago, and they were never that great to begin with. They messed up my eyes. I’ve taken them off, but . . .” She shrugged. Hopefully in his direction. “It takes a while, before they get better.”

“You put in expired contacts?” He sounded personally offended.

the dubious privilege of slaughtering fruit flies in the name of science for ninety cents an hour.

I . . . maybe. I must say, the line between excellent career choice and critical life screwup is getting a bit blurry.”

to know that Anh and Jeremy and pretty

have no idea if you’re good enough, he’d told her. What matters is whether your reason to be in academia is good enough.

“It will be fine, Olive.” His smile softened. “And if not, at least it will be over.

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever it is that you’re crying about, I will fix it. I will make it right. I—”

correlation equals causation’?”