to, since the number of eligible men around had dwindled down to practically nothing. But she well remembered in school and college how it felt. To have her eye on a guy and watch how he completely ignored her in favor of someone else.
It made her stomach sink with an exhausted resignation.
She wasn’t sure why she’d expected anything to change, just because she was grown up now and more secure in who she was. It didn’t mean men would suddenly start falling for her when they never had before.
“Something wrong with you?”
The words startled her so much she jerked and made an embarrassing squeaking sound. Her hand had been around her coffee cup, and her suddenly motion caused the liquid to slosh out of the mug and onto her fingers.
Glaring up at the source, she snapped, “Do you have to sneak up on people like that?”
“Did I sneak up?” Fitz asked blandly, his vivid blue eyes glinting with humor (very annoying humor). “I walked in the door and came over here. It’s not my fault you were staring at someone else.”
Fitz had arrived in town several years ago and had provided no background at all about where he’d come from or why he’d chosen Azalea. He was probably around forty—although his age was hard to guess—and he lived in a run-down attic space in one of the downtown buildings. He supported himself by doing odd jobs, including for the flower shop that Belinda’s sister, Ria, owned with her friends. Fitz was obviously capable and intelligent, but he made no attempt to better himself or get a full-time job. His brown hair and thick beard were unkempt. His clothes were worn down to threads. And he always wore the same beat-up Army jacket, even on the hottest days of summer.
He was a ridiculous, obnoxious man, and he seemed to have taken it upon himself as a particular mission to get on Belinda’s nerves.
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to hide her embarrassment. Naturally, Fitz would be the one to notice her discreet and subtle observation of Kyle. “I wasn’t staring at anyone. And nothing is wrong.”
“It sure looked like something was wrong. You were getting all droopy and forlorn, which isn’t like you at all.”
With an indignant gasp, she wiped the coffee off her hand with more force than was entirely necessary. “I was not droopy or forlorn. You’re imagining things.”
“I don’t think so.” Despite the typical dry amusement in his blue eyes, they were searching her face with an unmistakably scrutiny. Like he really did want to know what was wrong.
It rattled Belinda for no good reason. Despite her protestations, Fitz was right about her. She had been feeling sorry for herself and her profound lack of male attention. She didn’t like to be that way, and his sudden appearance and the resulting annoyance his presence always provoked in her immediately pulled her out of it. “I’m telling you that you are imagining things. You don’t know better about me than I know myself.”
“I don’t think I know better. I just think I’m more likely to tell me the truth than you are.”
It took a minute for her to process this roundabout remark. When she did, she gave him another scowl. “In what universe do you think I would owe you the truth about anything, much less myself?”
His mouth quirked up beneath his beard. “You don’t owe me anything, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know anyway.”
With a frustrated sound, she closed her laptop, scooted to the edge of the booth, and nudged him out of the way so she could get out. She dropped a ten-dollar bill on the table to pay for her egg sandwich and coffee, as well as a generous tip for the waitress. Then she walked toward the exit of the restaurant, uncomfortably aware that Kyle still hadn’t glanced over toward her.
Fitz came with her. “At least you don’t look droopy anymore.”
She’d been headed toward her sister’s flowers shop, but at this she whirled around. “I was not droopy.”
“If you say so.” Fitz had stopped too. He was about four inches taller than her, and he tilted his head down to meet her gaze. “I’m just saying that a guy who’s too stupid to be into you isn’t worth getting droopy about.”
She blinked. Heard the words he’d just said. Felt her cheeks start to warm. Her heart had already been racing from the silly argument—she always got riled up around Fitz—but now it gave a couple of little jumps. “What?”
It had sounded almost like he’d just given her a compliment.
And he’d never done that before.
“Are you having trouble hearing me? Why do you look so flabbergasted? I just said that not every guy is going to be into every girl. Nothing to be droopy about.”
This time, it didn’t sound like a compliment. At all. It didn’t sound personal. It sounded more like a smug, obnoxious, generalized observation. The kind that are of no help whatsoever and that Fitz was the last person on earth to be making. She glared at him coldly as she gritted out, “I was not droopy.”
It wasn’t the most clever of comebacks, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. What the hell was wrong with her? Not just getting disappointed because Kyle hadn’t noticed her, but also getting disappointed that Fitz hadn’t said something sweet about her.
She must be out of her mind.
Without another word, she walked away from Fitz, and fortunately this time he didn’t follow.
YOU CAN FIND OUT MORE about The Remake here.
About Noelle Adams
NOELLE HANDWROTE HER first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she writes full time, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.
She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances. For more information, please check out her website: noelle-adams.com.