Maybe…
She couldn't figure out what it was that had first made her love him. She was simply stuck with maybes…
Maybe it was the first time he truly touched her…
"Nice truck."
She rolled her eyes at the sarcastic comment. "Thanks for noticing." She turned and he was wiping his hands on a rag, grease streaking across the blue cloth. His coveralls had 'Paul' embroidered on the left side of his chest. She hadn't seen him since she left Forks with her mother. No more long, shaggy hair, but his eyes were just as big and dark. "It's my welcome home gift, I need it looked over."
He leered, "I can look it over real good, sweetheart." He walked toward her, and she refused to back down. She wasn't going to let herself be walked over. He stopped in front of her and frowned.
"Something wrong?" Her head tilted slightly to the side, and she held her breath when he reached out.
"You cut your hair," he murmured, fingering the short brunette strands.