I can't tell you how much I love writing this story and I'm so excited to write Daryl's POV in the next chapter. Beth and Daryl are finally taking steps but this is still a slow-burn story.

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Chapter Seven.

She wasn't sure exactly how it happened. She had loaned him a copy of the book, yes, but from there, they had silently developed this sort of thing between them and she wasn't quite sure where it came from.

One day, a few days after she gave him the book, she got to the garage in the morning and sitting down at her desk, she saw a Hershey chocolate bar sitting right on her computer's keyboard. She looked at it for a moment as if she wasn't quite sure it was real and when her hand reached out and her fingers touched it, she felt a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth and her heart skipped a few beats within her chest. She looked through the window to see Daryl at his bay, getting his station ready for the first car but he didn't look over to her and she didn't go up to him to thank him, thinking he might not want the attention.

The next day, when he had gone out back for a smoke break, she had gone to his tool box and hidden a juice box in one of the drawers, hurrying back to the office before he – or any of the other mechanics – could spot her. She knew he would find it eventually but she didn't look at him and he didn't come to her to thank him.

It became an occurrence between them that happened every few days. She would get to work and there would be something sitting on her desk or on her chair for her. A bag of Hershey kisses. A small candle that smelled like rain. A pair of mittens – because she was always cold and she giggled when she figured that one out. A small wooden carving of a bear and she wanted to ask him if he made that himself. And finally, a small compass, because she kept getting lost. And though it wasn't a necklace, she looped it around her neck as if it was.

If this was anyone else, she would almost think that he was courting her like this was some old-fashioned romance novel but she reminded herself that this was Daryl and for some reason, he was just being nice to her. It didn't really mean anything more than that. She told herself this again and again because every time she saw that he had left her something else, her heart beat a little faster and her stomach fluttered as if a dozen butterflies were somehow flying around in there, trying to get loose. She kept telling herself that she was just being silly; that this exchanging between them was probably just some sort of way they had found to pass time.

She always had to wait when he went out for smoke breaks to slip him his something somewhere in his tool box. He was much harder to choose things for. There were juice boxes, yes, but she couldn't give him juice boxes every time. She didn't know how he had figured out the perfect things to give her when they barely knew one another. Every day, she poured so much thought into what she could give him and when she did think of something and hid it for him, she told herself that he was going to hate it and think it was stupid.

There was a lucky rabbit's foot keychain. A small pocketknife. A new Zippo lighter with a deer on the front. A turtle shell she had found walking past a thrift store sidewalk sale one day. That was the weirdest one and she wasn't sure why when she looked at it, she thought of Daryl but she had and she bought it and hid it in the toolbox and sat there, not looking out to the garage as he found it. She didn't want to see his confusion; maybe even his disappointment and she knew he probably would go home and throw it out because he gave her such thoughtful things and she gave him some old useless turtle shell.

This was why she was so uncomfortable around the opposite sex. She had no idea how to do anything around them. She wondered how other girls – girls like her sister – just knew how to do things like this. Talk with guys and act around guys and have guys interested in them at first glance. Did they have a book somewhere that told them all of this? And if there was a book, why didn't Beth have a copy?

She would have laughed if she wasn't feeling so down on herself and not for the first time, she wished her mom was here. Annette would know exactly what to say to Beth to help her feel more confident around Daryl Dixon. Of course, if Annette was still around, Beth knew would be a very different person. Before her mom died, she had been outgoing and bubbly and loved being around people. But when Annette died, it had felt like a part of Beth had died right along with her.

After her mom died, she didn't feel hungry anymore. There was a part in her brain that told her that she had to eat; that her mom wouldn't want her doing this to herself. But she couldn't stop and she couldn't get her mouth to open. It spiraled out of control so fast that even with her dad and brother and sister pleading and crying with her to eat, she couldn't. She was in the hospital and then in a clinic and she went to therapy sessions and group meetings and slowly, she began to do something she hadn't done. She began to mourn the death of her mother – in a more normal healthy way. But it was too late. Damage had been done and now, she was this girl. This girl who was so painfully shy and unsure of herself, she doubted herself at every turn and couldn't even speak with a person for too long before staring down at the floor and wishing she was anywhere else because surely, the other person wished they were.

Everyone in town looked at her and whispered about her. Poor Annette and Hershel's daughter who lost her mind and slit her wrist and tried to starve herself to death because she didn't know how else to live. She was such a sweet girl but she was still a crazy girl.

Beth dared a glance towards the window to look out over the garage and see Daryl working. He lived in the same town she did and probably heard all of the things said about her just as she had heard some things about him. Did he believe it? Did he look at her like a crazy girl?

She had just given him a turtle shell. Of course he thought she was crazy.

The phone rang and she quickly stopped looking at Daryl and Daryl's arms and the way Daryl's hair fell in his face to answer it.

"Dale's Garage," she answered in her sweet voice, trying to ignore the rapid beating of her heart and tightening of her stomach. "Oh, hi, Karen. Yes, I remember you." Beth remembered the pretty woman so well, her beating heart dropped to her feet.

In the garage, Axel whistled as she walked past and she kept her eyes set forward. Daryl lifted his head when he heard her steps approaching and he flicked his head as he always did to get the hair out of his face.

"I have a call for you," Beth did her best to keep her voice even. "It's Karen."

She watched as Daryl frowned and his brow furrowed with confusion. Without another word, she turned and went back into the office and the hairs on the back of her neck told her that Daryl was following.

"I'll give you some privacy," she said, already slipping out again.

"You don't have to do that," Daryl muttered, still frowning. He took the phone receiver on the desk and Beth hesitantly sat down in her chair again. "Yeah?" He spoke and Beth stared at her computer screen, trying not to eavesdrop though on Daryl's end of the conversation, there wasn't much to hear. Just one word grunts and she had no idea what they were talking about and she told herself that she didn't care. Why did she care? He had given her presents but they had just been little things and it was because she had given him a book to read.

Daryl didn't say anything as he hung up the phone again. Beth expected him to turn right around and go back into the garage but he hesitated and she lifted her eyes from the computer screen to him. He stood there, his hands in his pockets and he looked at her for a moment before his eyes darted down to the floor.

"Was wonderin' if you wanted to come for a ride with me after work tonight," Daryl said, his words mumbled, but Beth had been able to hear him perfectly.

"On your motorcycle?" She asked and she sounded breathless to her ears.

Daryl glanced at her before away again and gave his head a nod. "Don't ride with helmets so I don't know if that'd matter to you…" he trailed off.

"No, it doesn't," she said, which surprised her because she thought riding a motorcycle with a helmet definitely would have mattered to her. "And I would love to go with you."

He looked at her again and this time, his eyes lingered on her for an extra moment. She did her best to give him a smile; to show him that she loved his invitation. And he looked at her for another moment before giving another nod and she swore that she saw his lips twitch as if he wanted to smile.

"After the garage closes," he said and her smile to him was easier now.

He turned and went back to his bay and Beth watched him walk away. She still wondered – and was worried – about what Karen had called about but it wasn't any of her business and maybe there wasn't a reason to worry. Of course there wasn't. Not because there couldn't be anything between Daryl and Karen. But because she had no right to be worried. She was no one and she was no one to Daryl and she couldn't exactly blame Karen for showing interest in Daryl – if that was what she was doing. And who else could blame her if she was?

Work seemed to crawl by for the rest of the day and she did her best to not look out the window because if she did, she would just stare at him and get nothing done. She had absolutely no idea why Daryl had asked her to go on a ride with him – maybe she was asleep and this was all just a dream – but she wasn't going to question it. If he wanted to ask her to go on a ride with him, she would gladly go anywhere with him.

Somehow, the day kept moving forward and she breathed as if she had just reached the end of a sprinted marathon. The others began leaving and Daryl was cleaning up his station as always as she shut the computer down and began cleaning up her desk.

"Beth?" Dale came out of his office. "Have you seen-"

"On top of your head," Beth smiled and Dale laughed as he lifted his hand and felt the glasses resting there.

"Godsend," he said and Beth felt her cheeks warm though Dale called her something like that nearly every night before he left. "You have a good night. Get home safe."

"I will," she nodded. "Good night, Dale."

"Good night. Good night, Daryl!" Dale called out before leaving, the door swinging shut behind him.

Beth grabbed her coat and bag and after checking the office one more time, she left, turning off the lights, and walked into the garage, heading for Daryl. He was just finishing up and slipping on his own coat and the leather vest he always wore with the angel wings on the back. The fluttering she had felt in her stomach all day only intensified with each step that took her closer to him. And when he turned his head and looked at her, she had to remind herself to keep breathing.

"Hi," she smiled.

"You ready?" He asked and she nodded, unable to help the large smile from spreading across her face.

They stepped outside and walked towards his bike parked in the back. She hoped this wouldn't be too big of a disaster since she was wearing a dress that day. She was just glad she was wearing her ballet flats and not heels. With each step closer, her stomach fluttered and then tightened and she felt such a nervous excitement she felt as if about to go on the tallest rollercoaster at the carnival.

She laughed then a little as she watched Daryl climb onto the bike and he looked at her with a questioning look. She smiled and shook her head. "My sister will kill me if she knows I took a ride on the motorcycle," she said.

Daryl stared at her and she kept smiling and his own lips started to twitch. "We just won't tell her," he said.

She laughed slightly again. "Definitely not."

She didn't hesitate as she carefully climbed onto the bike behind him and settled herself onto the seat. She had never been on a motorcycle again and she wasn't entirely sure what the right things to do were but she slipped a little closer to Daryl's back and smelled his scent of leather and earth and she was proud of herself for not putting her nose to his shoulder and just inhaling him.

"Hold on," he said to her from over his shoulder and she slowly slipped her arms around his waist.

She wondered if he could feel her trembling. She wondered if he could hear the way the breath caught in her throat at being so close to him. He started the bike and it began rumbling behind her and she tightened her arms just a little bit more around him. He revved the engine and then they were off. He slowly pulled from the lot and then they were on the street, taking off, and she couldn't stop the yelp that left her mouth as she felt the cool wind against her face and Daryl's warm and hard body in front of her. She tightened her arms and closed her eyes and before she could stop herself, she pressed her cheek to his back.

She never thought she would ever be on a motorcycle and not just on a motorcycle but on one with Daryl Dixon. The stars overhead and the night clear and cool and no sounds except the roar of the motorcycle and the thumping of her heart. All of a sudden, she felt like her life was a song that she had to write.

She tried to remember the last time she had felt this happy.

...

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