Chapter 4: First Date

Daryl made the first break and sunk one stripe in the process. Carol watched the way his shirt clung to his back when he leaned over the table to line up his shot. She watched the way his fingers tightened around the cue, the way his arms tightened as he concentrated, the way his gaze zeroed in on the triangle before he made the first shot.

"Not bad," she murmured, walking around behind him, sneaking a peak at his ass in those jeans. He glanced over his shoulder, completely oblivious the double meaning of her words. "You're pretty good."

"Used to play pool with my brother. It was really the only thing we did much of together, 'cept for huntin'. Merle liked to drink, so we'd go to the bars, he'd get drunk, and I'd kick his ass at the pool table. I got pretty good."

"Where were you born?"

"Grew up in Decatur. Had all these damned interstates around. Merle was all the time runnin' off and hitchin' rides. One time, he said he ended up all the way down in Florida. My dad drove all the way down, picked his ass up in jail and high tailed it back to Georgia. Merle was 'bout fourteen, and I swear my dad thought about puttin' bars on his windows. He was bad." Carol laughed at that.

"You weren't too far from me," she said quietly. "I lived in Alpharetta, but I spent a lot of time in Atlanta."

"I didn't get out to the city that much. We lived out in the country. My daddy was the sheriff there. Mama died when I was ten, so it was just us. Her and Merle were close, so he kinda went wild after she died."

"I'm sorry," Carol said softly. He balled his fists over the end of his cue stick and rested his chin atop them. He gave her a little half smile.

"It was a long time ago."

"Your dad? He's still around?"

"Yeah, he retired early. He moved down to Florida. Probably chasin' after the women like he did in Georgia after my mom died. He wasn't the same after that, you know?"

"I'd imagine not."

"Anyway, I stayed in school, 'cause I figured one of us should, and I went to a tech school. Merle cleaned himself up as best as Merle could, and we moved out to L.A. Merle was convinced he'd get in good with some hot movie star and live in the lap of luxury."

"Oh, I know the type," Carol snorted. "I've dated the type."

"Well, he sleeps on my couch some nights, when he ain't pissin' off his girlfriend, Paula. Me? I live above the shop. Merle makes it into work most days, but not always." He shrugged, and Carol shook her head.

"Why do you put up with it?"

"With what? With him? He's my brother. He ain't a bad guy. He's just an asshole. Out here, he's the only family I got."

"Yeah," Carol said with a little chuckle. "I get it."

"Your shot," he offered with a nod toward the pool table. Carol grabbed her cue and leaned over the table, lining up and sinking two solids. "Shit."

"I warned you," she teased, as Daryl moved to try to make a corner pocket shot. He scratched the second he caught a whiff of Carol's perfume when she leaned over the table next to him.

"Christ." He stood then, trying to maintain a little dignity, knowing that if Merle could see him in that moment, he'd be laughing his ass off and calling his baby brother a pussy. "So, what about you?"

"Me?" Carol laughed. "Well, like I said. I'm also from Georgia. I was a good kid, I guess. I didn't have any siblings to get into trouble with. My parents were older, and I was a big surprise, and they were pretty protective of me. But they were proud. I loved to read, and as soon as I hit high school, I joined the drama club, and I knew that was it for me. I studied theater in high school, and my parents saved up to surprise me with a one way ticket to Los Angeles as a graduation present. They basically shipped me off, telling me they knew that it was my dream, and I waitressed for a good six months before I even got an audition anywhere. I ended up doing a lot of plays at a few prestigious theaters. I caught the eye of a talent scout when I was playing Hermia in A Midsummer's Night Dream. You ever see that play?"

"Uh…must have missed that one in high school," he chuckled. Carol smiled then.

"Well, I did a few short films, a few commercials."

"Yeah? Any I'd remember ya from?"

"Oh, let me think," Carol said slowly, leaning over to line up her shot and sinking another solid into a corner pocket. Daryl's shoulders slumped, and Carol smiled. "I did a toothpaste commercial once." She smiled a wide, cheesy smile and held her hands up like she was holding a small item. "Pearly White for your pearly whites."

"God," he snorted. "That's bad."

"Oh, you know it. It isn't a wonder that brand didn't last long," she laughed. "You're up." He easily sank another stripe, as Carol walked around the table. "I did a face cream commercial and a couple of shampoo commercial. I was the girl with the frizzy hair that couldn't seem to figure out how to brush the wild jungle on top of her head. Yeah, my proudest moment."

"Yeah, yeah, I remember that one," he laughed. "You were hot."

"Oh yeah. You liked that? You should see my bed head first thing in the morning." She blushed at her own words, and Daryl smirked as she leaned down to make her shot. This time, she scratched, but she only had herself to blame for walking right into that last zinger. "Anyway…I did a couple of short roles in some TV movies before I auditioned for Apocalypse, California. I don't think any of us expected it to take off like it did."

One of the double doors opened, and Andrea came through holding a tray containing their food.

"You want to call it now?"

"Call what?" Daryl asked. "The game?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's obvious who's winning."

"No it ain't," he snorted.

"Oh, come on. I'm kind of kicking your ass," Carol teased, stepping toward him, one hand on her pool cue, one hand on her hip.

"I think we should eat first. I gotta keep my strength up," Daryl chuckled. "Then we'll see who's kickin' who's ass."

"Yeah," Carol replied with a grin. "We'll see." She winked at him then, and he felt like the floor dropped out from under him. He held onto the pool cue for a moment, and it scraped against the floor under the pressure of his hand.

Carol made her way back to the booth, and he couldn't help but check out her ass in those jeans. Was the woman really this perfect? Beautiful smile, gorgeous eyes, fantastic figure, pool player extraordinaire, and most importantly, she seemed to be as interested in him as he was in her.

"Hey, you two wanna hurry it along? I've got Brad and Angelina coming in an hour."

"Shit, really?" Daryl asked, looking over at the bar owner. Andrea snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Are you kidding? Take your time, guys. Enjoy the food." She flashed Carol a little wink as she set the dishes down on the table, and then she was gone, leaving the two alone again.

"Alright, let's go eat," Carol laughed. "I can kick your ass later."

"That was embarrassing," Daryl snorted, as they walked out of the bar together. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and Carol clutched at her purse. They walked slowly together, around the side of the bar.

"Hey, I told you I was good," Carol offered with a shrug.

"You are," he concurred. The parking lot light above his truck and Carol's rental car had dimmed considerably and was now flickering, buzzing with warning that it was about to fizzle out. "You'll be alright to drive?"

"Mmm. We were there—what—two hours? Yeah. I'll be fine."

"I'd hate to see you in the tabloids tomorrow," he said with a smirk. "I know they love a good DUI story."

"Well, that's something we don't have to worry about," Carol chuckled, keys jingling in her hand as they stepped between his truck and the car. "I had a lot of fun tonight, Daryl."

"I did, too." He leaned against the side of his truck, hands still stuffed in his pockets. "Wasn't so bad, was it? Openin' up to somebody?"

"No, it was…well, it was really nice, actually," Carol chuckled softly. I really haven't had many people to confide in. I have my friend Michonne. I have Andrea. My parents, of course, but they're so far away. Aside from that, it's hard to let people in."

"Don't talk to many people. Got Merle, but that ain't the same. 'Sides, he ain't exactly the kinda guy that likes to have heart to hearts." Carol smiled at that. "Like I said, he's an asshole." Carol sighed then, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Daryl watched her. He watched the way her shoulders hitched, the way her arms curled about herself, the way she bit her lip and her cheeks flushed under the flickering lamplight. "You cold?"

"I'm fine," she blushed, taking a tentative step toward him. "Just nervous." She swallowed hard as he stepped toward her, closing the gap.

"You think you might wanna try a second date?"

"Is this you asking?"

"Yeah, this is me, askin'." Carol smiled then, biting her lip again, and Daryl felt his stomach coil into knots waiting on her response. Just looking into those big, beautiful, blue eyes was enough to make him feel like he was drowning in her. His head felt a little funny, like the world was spinning though he was standing steady on his own two feet.

"I'd like that," she said softly. He brushed his hand over her arm, and she trembled under his touch. "But I'm not sure I'm ready for this one to be over, yet."

"Me neither," he admitted.

"It's getting late," she murmured. "It's probably a bad idea." She took one more step toward him, and his fingertips brushed against her waist, over the curve of her hipbones, and she shivered.

"Maybe," he murmured, looking down, watching the way the shadows crossed her face under the fading lamplight. He brought his fingertips to her chin, tilting her face up toward his. He knew asking her to go home would further take her out of her comfort zone. This was new and fragile, and he already felt himself falling for her, but he didn't want to scare the hell out of her. He didn't want to push her. And as much as he wanted to kiss her, he knew that it would probably only confuse her further. He wanted her to make the next step for herself, and it took everything inside of him to keep from kissing her when he saw her lick those pretty, pink lips.

She leaned up then, finding his mouth in a tentative, tender kiss, moving her hands up his chest and over his broad shoulders, sighing when she felt his hands move back to her waist, fingers digging in gently and pulling her closer.

Her arms wrapped around his neck then, and she opened herself up to him, sighing as his tongue danced with hers, as her heart raced against her chest, mirroring his own thundering heartbeat. Her fingertips trembled as she grazed over the line of his jaw, and he clutched her closer then. He tasted like whisky, and she felt drunk for the first time that night, warm and flushed, swimmy in the head, unsteady and absolutely free.

He held her closer, still, and she pulled back to take a breath. She felt the warmth of his lips against her forehead, and she buried her face against his chest. This guy, this stranger she'd known for less than a day, this man who she'd been reluctant to even get to know because of how badly she'd been burned in the past, was breaking through all the caution tape she'd wrapped around her heart, and she knew she was going to fall fast if she didn't hold on tight. Still, letting go would be so easy to do.

Maybe she'd get burned. Maybe he would. But if she didn't try she'd never know. She took a shivering breath before she looked back up into his eyes.

"You'll be alright to get home?" he asked, pulling back to search her eyes in the ever-dwindling lamplight. It was almost gone now. She nodded then, pausing briefly before she reached out and stroked her fingertips over his wrist. And when the light above finally faded to darkness, Carol wrapped her fingers around his and gave his hand a squeeze.

"I don't want to go home."