𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌 - 𝐥 | ✓

Love On The Brain

A NOVEL BY ALI HAZELWOOD.

4.4☆'𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 5☆'𝐬

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Love Hypothesis comes a new STEMinist rom-com in which a scientist is forced to work on a project with her nemesis—with explosive results.

Bee Königswasser lives by a simple code: What would Marie Curie do? If NASA offered her the lead on a neuroengineering project - a literal dream come true - Marie would accept without hesitation. Duh. But the mother of modern physics never had to co-lead with Levi Ward.

Sure, Levi is attractive in a tall, dark, and piercing-eyes kind of way. But Levi made his feelings toward Bee very clear in grad school - archenemies work best employed in their own galaxies far, far away.

But when her equipment starts to go missing and the staff ignore her, Bee could swear she sees Levi softening into an ally, backing her plays, seconding her ideas... devouring her with those eyes. The possibilities have all her neurons firing.

But when it comes time to actually make a move and put her heart on the line, there's only one question that matters: What will Bee Königswasser do?

Q U O T E S
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"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a community of women trying to mind their own business must be in want of a random man’s opinion."

"You were always in my head. And I could never get you out."

"I want to tell her that she's luminous, she's so bright in my mind, sometimes I can't focus."

"
I know what she smells like. This little freckle on her neck when she pulls up her hair. Her upper lip is a little plumper than the lower. The curve of her wrist, when she holds a pen. It’s wrong, really wrong, but I know the shape of her. I go to sleep thinking about it, and then I wake up, go to work, and she is there, and it’s impossible. I tell her stuff I know she’ll agree to, just to hear her hum back at me. It’s like hot water down my fucking spine. She’s married. She’s brilliant. She trusts me, and all I think about is taking her to my office, stripping her, doing unspeakable things to her. And I want to tell her. I want to tell her that she’s luminous, she’s so bright in my mind, sometimes I can’t focus. Sometimes I forget why I came into the room. I’m distracted. I want to push her against a wall, and I want her to push back. I want to go back in time and punch her stupid husband on the day I met him and then travel back to the future and punch him again. I want to buy her flowers, food, books. I want to hold her hand, and I want to lock her in my bedroom. She’s everything I ever wanted and I want to inject her into my veins and also to never see her again. There’s nothing like her and these feelings, they are fucking intolerable. They were half-asleep while she was gone, but now she’s here and my body thinks it’s a fucking teenager and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. There is nothing I can do, so I’ll just . . . not."

"if academia ever makes you feel like you’re not good or smart enough . . . it’s not you, it’s academia."

"The real villain is love: an unstable isotope, constantly undergoing spontaneous nuclear decay. And it will forever go unpunished."

"Annie used to have a funny theory: we all have a Year Zero around which the calendars of our lives pivot. At some point you meet someone, and they become so important, so metamorphic, that ten, twenty, sixty-five years down the line you look back and realize that you could split your existence in two. Before they showed (BCE), and your Common Era. Your very own Gregorian calendar."

"I can give you nice. I can give you better than nice. I can give you everything.” He smiles at me, full of hope. “You don’t even have to admit to yourself that you love me, Bee. God knows I love you enough for the both of us. But I need you to stay. I need you to stick around. Not in Houston, if you don’t want to. I’ll follow you, if you ask me to."

"I love you, I think, and you are my home."

"I take a deep breath, still staring out the window. “I really, really, really like you.”
He doesn’t reply for a long moment. Then: “I’m pretty sure I like you more.”
“I doubt it. I just want you to know, not everyone is like your family. You can be . . . you can be you with me. You can talk, say, do however you want. And I’ll never hurt you like they did.” I make myself smile at him. It’s easy now. “I promise I don’t bite.”
He reaches over to take my hand, his skin warm and rough against mine. He smiles back. Just a little.
“You could rip me to shreds, Bee."

"If there is one thing men hate more than a smart woman, it’s a smart woman who makes her own choices when it comes to her own sex life."

"She’s so mean. I love her."

"This is the equivalent to someone buying their own ‘World’s Best Boss’ mug. Congratulations, you’re officially NASA’s Micheal Scott.

"Thank you, Oh Penised Overlords, for the recognition I deserve."

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