Unfortunately, for the brothers, Beth had heard a great deal of what was said. She guessed they never really noticed how thin the walls were, considering they didn't have much company before her. But, she also grew up with siblings, and knew when and how to eavesdrop. As soon as the Daryl and Merle started yelling, Beth turned off the shower and practically sprinted to the bathroom door, almost pressing her ear against it. For the majority of their conversation, she stood there naked, with the water she hadn't bothered to dry off pooling at her feet. She'd been in a such good mood when she got back and hadn't bothered going at it with Merle, but by the sounds of it, she should have. She'd heard Daryl mad at his brother before, but with every passing sentence, their conversation seemed more foreboding. They both sounded frightened of this Blake character., which made her equally uneasy.

Beth started to change when she realized the conversation was becoming about her, although she still listened intently to what was being said. Finally, when she realized how far south the conversation was going, she exited the bathroom, playing dumb to the words she'd just heard. "What's he wishing?" She said, hoping to not give herself away with a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth.

Merle looked as smug as ever as he pushed his empty bottle of beer into Daryl's chest. "Too late, I guess."

As his brother left, Beth watched Daryl – he remained cool. He always tried to remain cool when it was the three of them. Beth usually did the same. Merle would a field day if either one of them was flustered around each other in his presence. But as soon as the door closed behind Merle, Daryl was in a complete huff – frowning and mumbling to himself.

"What was that all about?" Beth asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to see if he'd say something himself.

"Nothing." Daryl snapped immediately and changing the subject. "I need a shower."

Daryl set down the bottle and brushed right passed Beth, who couldn't help herself. "You could have asked."

Daryl stopped in his tracks, Beth stopped herself from giggling, as she watched alarms go off in his head. "W-what?" Daryl stuttered.

"You could have asked me not to take so long, if you were going to be so bitchy about it," Beth replied. She had a slight tone in her voice, annoyed by him brushing her off. "That's all I meant."

Daryl turned around to face her. "That's not what I'm mad about."

Beth took at step toward his, looking at him in the eye as she bit her bottom lip, only slightly, as if to make it look like it was an absent-minded movement. "Isn't it?"

Before Daryl could back away, or do anything really for that matter, Beth turned on her heels – her damp hair making a whap sound as it hit his chest – and walked straight into her room, closing the door behind her. For a moment, she felt bad about giving him a hard time, right after his brother had. But a few seconds later her hand was covering her mouth and stifling her laughs at what fun it was. She knew that Daryl was probably still standing there confused as hell. She didn't know what had gotten into her really. Beth knew she was annoyed at him for not telling her something…anything… about his conversation with his brother, but she also knew there were aspects of his life Daryl liked to keep hidden. Sure, it was her truck that was used to transport…whatever…but maybe she was better off just pretending it never happened. Like Merle had suggested to Daryl.

Of course, that wasn't the only suggestion Merle had made – which is what she'd been teasing Daryl about. Join her in the shower? Aside from it sounding like a slipping hazard, Beth tried not to think anything of it. But, of course, telling herself not to think about it, just made her think about it so much more. Her cheeks flushed red at the thought, and she shouldn't help but wonder if Daryl's demeanor matched her own when his brother had made the recommendation. How many times had they said it's not like that or that they were just friends? Enough times for her to lose count. But, every time she said that, she couldn't help but wonder what if it was like that, and what if they weren't just friends.

Beth sat down on her bed and shifted uncomfortably. She knew she wasn't supposed to think like that. For a number of different reason. The first being his age and all that other nonsense that any conservative could list off. The second, of course, being the cross around her neck. They were, after all, in the Bible Belt. She wasn't supposed to even think about sex as far as her church was concerned and she'd very well thrown Maggie's birth control in the pond when she was younger. But, as she got older, and her sister started revealing some details, how could it not peak her curiosity. She still stopped her old high school boyfriend, Jimmy, from going too far, but she hadn't stopped herself from wanting to. It was kind of the same way with Daryl, though the most scandalous thing she'd done was kiss him on the cheek.

Which means it is nothing like Jimmy. Beth reminded herself that she had no claim over Daryl, no title of boyfriend, beneficial friend, or anything of the sorts. He was her roommate. But, that hadn't very well stopped her from flirting with him. She'd admit she flirted, sometimes purposefully. Flirting was their version of going too far.

. . .

After finally managing to get himself in the bathroom, Daryl stood in the shower, wondering what the hell had just happened. He swore she'd heard more than she was letting on, but he wasn't about to confront her about that mess. He knew that if she'd heard anything about Blake, she'd most certainly heard a thing of two about herself; and at the end of the day, he didn't know what worried him more: the danger she may be put in, or her taking part in Merle's attempts to make him squirm. Blake held the possibility of danger whether she knew about him or not, now that her stupid old truck was involved. But her getting in on Merle's antics seemed like a whole new can of worms. Or, maybe, she was in on it all along, with all the cheek kissing and hugging and smiling. Maybe she was a hired actress his brother found to fuck with him. It was a far better rationalization for all their encounters. Although, anyone with a brain could tell him that wasn't true, and that she was going about on her own accords.

Not even four hours ago he'd decided he didn't care about what others thought of them. But, that shifted when he considered what she thought of them. Had she thought there was a possibility of them being something more? That seemed too much like a fantasy Merle would make up in his head – and he was in no way his older brother – which Merle had been made clear time and time again when he called Daryl the sweet one.

But, had it been made clear to her?

Had it been made clear to himself?

. . .

A week, then two passed, and not once did Beth ask about Blake or take back her offer of either of the brothers to continue using the truck. However, she didn't stop her toying with Daryl either. Or at least he'd become hyper aware of every little body movement she made towards him – every time her finger tips slid town his shoulders or every time she leaned in a little closer as they spoke. He kept telling himself he should do something about it, but it he was enjoying it too damn much. There was also there fear of it being all in his head that really kept his mouth sealed shut. He didn't think it was in her nature, but for some reason he could not stop thinking about her laughing in his face and telling him he was the last person she'd ever think of in that way.

"Is Beth okay?"

"What?" Daryl snapped his head up when he realized Lori was talking to him – as he had been staring vacantly at the bottom of his glass. He was sitting at the bar, keeping to himself.

"I asked if Beth was okay." Lori nodded towards one of the tables where the blonde was sitting with a bunch of the waitresses. "She's really going in on the shots."

Daryl shrugged. "I think she has tomorrow off."

Daryl guessed she'd decided that she could drink a lot more than usual on that night because she could nurse her hangover without the dread of heading into the diner. Which had become a regular thing when Beth had a Saturday shift off. Friday nights had somehow turned into girls' nights: aka Lori's bar nights. Which seemed to catch on with half the town, seeing that almost all the tables were full with all different kinds, laughing and talking over the boom box – which had never made it back onto the shelf since the first night Beth had been dragged to the bar.

"That looks a like a lot more than a few celebratory drinks," Lori warned, "and it's still early in the night."

"Then cut her off."

"I won't yet, just in case your right. But can you keep an eye on her?" Lori asked.

"Why? She'd a grown ass adult." Daryl grumbled.

Lori made a face at him. "Who pissed in your cheerios?"

"No one," Daryl replied. "Just ain't making her my responsibility tonight."

"Great idea," Lori sneered and she pushed back from behind the bar with a tray of drinks. She was going to need some help soon, if that baby ever planned on coming. "Hopefully it dies of loneliness."