Love on the Brain by Ali Hazelwood

            “Oh. Did you want to . . .”

            I cock my head. “Want to?”

            He clears his throat. “Did you want company? Were you already planning to go with your friend, or—”

            “My friend?”

            “That friend of yours.”

            “Who?”

            “I forgot her name. That girl who was in Sam’s lab? Dark hair, did fNIRS research, and . . .” He squints. “Nah, that’s all I remember.”

            “Are you talking about Annie Johansson?”

            He glances back at the program. “Maybe? That sounds right.”

            I can’t believe Levi forgot Annie’s name after she pursued him mercilessly for ages. She knew his damn blood type, for cake’s sake. Probably his social security number, too. “Why would I go for drinks with her?”

            “I just assumed,” he says absentmindedly. “You two were inseparable.”

            My heartbeat picks up. Probably for no reason. “But she’s not here.”

            Levi’s still reading the program, not really paying attention to me. “I thought I saw her a minute ago.”

            I whirl around. Yes, my palms are starting to sweat, but just because sometimes they do. All palms sweat sometimes, right? I look about frantically, but I’m sure that Annie’s not here. She can’t be. Levi didn’t even remember her name—he can’t be right about this. He probably thinks that all women with dark hair look the same and—

            Annie.

            With a shorter haircut. And a pretty lilac dress. And a big smile on her pretty lips. Standing in line at the badge reclamation station, chatting with someone, someone who just walked up and is handing her a cup of coffee, someone who—

            Tim.

            Tim. I see Tim, but only for a second. Then my vision blurs, large black dots swallowing the world. I’m hot. I’m cold. I’m sweaty. I’m shaking like a leaf and my heart is pounding and I’m flying away.

            “Bee.” Levi’s voice grounds me for a second, warm and deep and worried and solid and thank God he’s here, or I’d be scattered all over, debris in the wind. “Bee, are you okay?”

            I’m not. I’m dying. I’m fainting. I’m having a panic attack. My heart and my head are exploding.

            “Bee?”

            Levi is holding me now. Holding me again and I’m in his arms and it feels like I’m safe, how is it possible that when he’s around, only when he’s around, I really feel sa—





14





PERIAQUEDUCTAL GRAY & THE HIPPOCAMPUS: PAINFUL MEMORIES



THIS IS NOT my hotel room.

            First of all, it has a way better view. A busy, picturesque New Orleans street, instead of that cluttered courtyard with stacked patio furniture. Second, it smells faintly like pine and soap. Third, and perhaps most important: it’s not messy, and if I have one talent in the world, it’s turning a hotel room into complete non-vandalic chaos within the first three minutes of my stay.

            Your girl has some serious splinter skills.

            I sit up in the bed, which I assume is also not mine. The first thing I see is green. A particular brand of green: Levi Green™.

            “Yo,” I tell him, a little stupidly, and immediately slump back on the pillow. I feel drained. Exhausted. Nauseous. Out of it. How did I get here, anyway?

            Levi comes to sit next to me, on the side of the bed. “How are you?” The rich rumble of his voice is a hint of sorts. The last time I heard it was very recently. And I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe because . . . ?

            “Did I lose consciousness?”

            He nods. “Not immediately. You walked with me to the elevator. Then I carried you here.”

            It comes back to me at once. Tim. Annie. Tim and Annie. They’re here at the conference. Talking. To each other. I must be in Levi’s bed and the inside of my head is rotten and I’m losing it again and—