Author's Note: I am overwhelmed by the warm welcome I received upon my comeback. Thank you all so very much. Thank you to each of you who read the story, thank you to those who left me a review, thank you who made this story a favorite, thank you to those who put it on alert, thank you to those who put me on alert—thank you thank you thank you!

I'm not one of those authors to demand reviews or a certain number of them, but with the surprising number of hits I received (honestly I was so shocked!), I'd love to receive some more reviews please! Let me know what you like and dislike.

Thanks to those of you who left me some really kind words. I appreciate it more than you know.

Some of you who have reviewed are noticing little hints (that may or may not be subtle, I can't tell!) about plot twists. This story won't be your typical imprint story—I hope to make it something different. I'm very excited for it.

Disclaimer: I still don't own it. Everything belongs to Stephanie Meyer. I just like to play around.

Bella POV

I sat rigidly in the passenger seat after Paul shut the door, trying to tame my blush. The feeling of one of his hands in mine and the other steadying me on my lower back, as he helped me climb into the passenger side of my truck, had my body on fire. The lightest of touches from him had my head going places it had never gone before. I don't know why he is having such a strong impact on me—all I know is that I have never felt anything like it before.

I resisted turning my head to stare at the attractive man getting into my usual seat. I watched out of my peripheral vision as he made quick work of adjusting the seats and mirrors to fit him as best as he could. It seems the seat didn't go back far enough to make his legs entirely comfortable.

With a grunt and a shake of his head that seemed to be aimed at my truck, which I didn't understand. We were off.

The cab of my truck is small—even smaller with Paul sitting next to me. Our legs are almost touching, and there is a seat between us. It wasn't like this when Jared was driving me to Emily's. I felt my face growing hot and my temperature skyrocketing, but I resisted the urge to unzip my coat. Paul is sitting next to me without a shirt and in jean cutoffs. I need all the other layers between us. He makes my body feel some unnatural things.

With him driving, I glance frequently at him out of the corner of my eye, examining his features. He's extremely good-looking, his hard features having a very calm and attractive quality to them. He has gorgeous russet skin and cropped black hair, styled into spikes, though I think that may be unintentional. I noticed that he seems to run his hands through his hair when he is nervous.

His muscles are what really surprise me. He seems to be even more muscular than Jake.

I didn't notice that we had driven in silence for nearly ten minutes. When I snuck another glance at Paul, he was looking right back at me with a smirk on his face.

"See something you like?" Paul asked.

"A lot of things," I responded, before slapping a hand over my mouth. Where did that come from? "I m-mean. I don't see anything that I li-dislike."

I covered my mouth again, this time with both hands. I was trying to tell him that I don't see anything I like, but I can't seem to lie. Get it together Swan, you're going insane.

Paul's smirk widened knowingly, causing me to narrow my eyes in response.

"Is this some wolf thing?" I questioned, keeping my face stoic even though I wanted to smile when I saw his smirk falter into a look of shock.

"Has anyone ever told you how perceptive you are?" Paul ran his hand threw his hair. Well, I just told myself.

"Frequently," I quipped. "So perceptive in fact, that I recognize that when you run your hands through your hair, you're nervous. So answer the question. Is this some wolf thing?"

Paul's head shot over to look at me again, and his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. I have no idea how much more than thing can take between him and Jake today.

"You could say that," Paul finally answered with a loud exhale.

"Why are you avoiding the question? You said you'd answer my questions," I reminded him.

"No," Paul amended with a chuckle. "I said I'd answer whatever questions I could."

"You're infuriating, you know that?"

Paul guffawed. "So I've been told."

"Why is this coming so naturally?" I questioned, trying to get answers somewhere.

"What? Me and you?" Paul asked, waving his hand between the two of us.

"Yeah," I nodded. Where was this strong confidence and easy banter coming from? Who am I? "I don't even know who you are and I'm talking to you like I've known you all my life."

"You are…" Paul responded, before trailing off and scratching his head. He looked almost as confused as I was.

"So this isn't a wolf thing?" I asked. If it was, surely he'd know, right?

"I have no idea," He responded. "I don't know what this is." He seemed to be racking his brain for a memory or answer of some sort, and seemed frustrated when he couldn't come up with the answer he wanted.

"So Bella Swan, what's your favorite color?" Paul asked me, completely changing the subject.

"Paul, you turn into a gigantic wolf, and you want to know my favorite color?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah," He said, in "duh" tone. "I know I said I'd answer whatever questions I could, but maybe it's easier if we just wait until we get back to Sam's."

"Why, because he's the Alpha?"

"How did you-?"

"Jake."

"Right," Paul nodded. "That, and he's the most eloquent out of any of us."

"Ok-ay," I responded slowly, even more confused than before. "How about this. For the last," I glanced out of the window. "Fifteen minutes of this ride, how about this. I answer a question, and then you answer a question."

Paul seemed to mull it over, and then nodded in affirmation. "If I can."

"Right, if you can," I rolled my eyes. "Green, but everyone thinks it's purple."

"Huh?" Paul asked, lost in his thoughts.

"My favorite color. It's green, but everyone thinks it's purple."

"Oh," Paul seemed to regain his train of thought. "Why does everyone think it's purple?"

"Nuh-uh, my turn," I shook my head. "Is this," I gestured between us, not being able to put it into words, "A wolf thing?"

"Partly. At least I think—honestly, I have no idea," Paul responded, with another perplexed look crossing his features.

"How do you not have any idea?" I asked frustrated. "You're the one who turns into a wolf!"

"Nuh-uh, my turn," Paul mocked me, causing me to shoot him my meanest glare, to which he responded with laughter.

"Why does everyone think your favorite color is purple?" Paul got serious again.

"I'm not really sure. I think I liked it when I was like five or something—I wore it all the time. Then I think Jake kind of thought that was my favorite color, and he's assumed so ever since. He even has Charlie convinced it's purple. Not that it really matters. It's just a color."

Why was I so openly telling him everything? I hate talking this much, especially about myself.

"It matters to me," Paul responded softly, something that I think he wasn't used to doing.

"So how do you not have any idea?" I continued our little game.

"It's just—it's different than anything I've ever known of before. There are a lot of things you need to know and need to be told, but I'm not sure where we fit into that."

I was about to ask him more questions, when I looked up and caught his gaze while we were stopped at a stop sign. I could tell he was telling the truth, and he seemed just as confused and curious as I was about what was happening.

"Favorite thing to do?" Paul tore his gaze from mine and resumed the questions and driving.

"Read," I responded softly. I knew I was a nerd.

"Cool."

"Really?" I asked.

"Is that you're question to me?"

"Is that yours?" I retorted.

We glanced at each other again before busting out into laughter. I calmed down after a minute or two, and disappointedly realized we were pulling into the parking lot for Forks Hospital Emergency Room.

I have no idea who I am right now. I haven't laughed in months; I haven't really felt anything, and all of the sudden I feel so much. I'm disappointed that I'm about to lose my one-on-one time with Paul.

The oddest part was that the thoughts of the Cullens, which should be running wild through my mind from being at Forks Hospital, were barely a blip on my radar.

"Hey," Paul's rough voice pulled me out of thoughts. "We can continue our game on the way back."

A large smile spread across my face before I could even think about stopping it. "Okay."

I opened my door with my good hand, watching the ground to make sure my feet hit it steadily. I gasped when I came in contact with Paul's hard chest.

"How did you-?"

"Wolf thing," Paul answered, helping me out of the truck.

"Can I learn about some more of those?" I asked.

"You will," Paul promised. "When we get back to Sam's."

With that, he led me through the automatic doors of the emergency room, maneuvering me toward the check-in desk.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked behind the desk, without looking up.

I simply cleared my throat, gaining her attention.

"Oh! Bella!" She exclaimed, recognition on her features.

"How's the boys?" I asked Marie.

"Oh they're wonderful dear. I'm so excited for them to start middle school next year!"

"I'll bet," I smiled. Marie was my favorite receptionist at Forks Hospital. Her daughter passed away a few years ago, and she was left to take care of her two twin boys—Brady and Collin.

I looked at Paul, and had to keep myself from laughing. He seemed an equal mix of surprised and upset that I wasn't joking about being well-known in the hospital.

"What did you do this time honey?" Marie questioned, seeing my injured hand I was holding gently against my chest.

"I punched him," I informed her, with a nod in Paul's direction.

"My, my Paul Lahote," Marie shook her head. "You probably asked for it."

"That I did Marie," Paul grumbled.

"You two know each other?" I asked, curious.

"It's a small reservation honey," Marie responded. "Everyone knows everyone else. But Paul here—he takes care of things around the house sometimes when I need it."

I was flabbergasted. Paul didn't seem like the helping kind of guy—he seemed rough-and-tough.

He met my astonished look bashfully, but I sent him a smile letting him know how pleased I was by hearing that. I don't know how I knew he needed reassurance—I just did.

"Well Bella, we'll just skip this process and get you straight back to your usual spot, okay?"

"Thanks Marie," I responded gratefully. The Advil seemed to be wearing off, even though it was supposed to last a while longer. I guess I was in more pain than I thought.

An hour later, I was walking out of Forks Hospital with a bright green cast adoring my right wrist. They were about to give me a purple one, but Paul told them to give me the green. I had to smile at his insistence. He was very vocal in the room—asking the doctors a million questions that I never would've thought to ask. When do I get it off? What if it itches? Do I need a doctor's note for school? How do I shower with it? He looked almost embarrassed to ask that last one, and I had to laugh. Paul didn't strike me as the virginal type.

He also made sure I called Charlie. I looked at him confused, not knowing why he would care or why I should bother. Paul told me that someone could easily tell the Chief of Police that I was in the hospital, and it could give him an "unnecessary heart attack". He told him I should tell him that I hurt my hand, but maybe that I should leave out that I punched him. I laughed and agreed, impressed that he had thought of it. I thought I heard him mumble, "I'd want you to call me," but I couldn't be sure.

"Can I sign it?" Paul asked softly, pulling me from my memories, while he was helping me in the truck.

I was surprised. I'd never had any of my previous casts signed before.

"Sure," I agreed. "We'll have to see if Emily has a marker."

Paul nodded, before quickly making his way to the driver's side of the truck. He quickly took off, heading back to Sam's house in La Push.

I hoped at Sam's I'd finally get some answers.

Please review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Also, shameless plug: If you haven't, please read my other story "Love Lockdown"! It's also a Paul/Bella, but the plot is much, much different. I will always be updating the stories at the same time—that way I can't play favorites (even though I don't have one). So if one gives me a tough time, I will use the motivation to post the other to push through!