The Exception - (COMPLETED)

6. Ruth

One Year Later

When the New York Dance Academy packet came in the post, I quietly walked to my bedroom, closed the door gently, and proceeded to twirl around with the glossy folder clutched to my chest. Now it stays by my side everywhere I go, like to the market, my dad's house, and even to Murrough's. The thing can't weigh that much, but when I'm carrying it in my bag it feels like I've got the weight of all my dreams hanging off my shoulder.

I've wanted to go to New York to dance for as long as I can remember, but dreams are useless without plans, so I made a plan. And why not? There is nothing holding me back from going for it.

The plan originally had two steps.

Step one: save up as much money as I can.

Step two: move to New York in a year's time.

But I realized that I was thinking about step one without considering step zero.

Step zero: get into a program like NYDA.

Oh, and practice. There's always practice when I'm not working at Murrough's. Basically, I don't have a life outside of those two activities. That's okay, though. You have to sacrifice at least a little bit to get to live your dreams, right?

Plus, working at Murrogh's isn't so bad. I can't believe it's been a year-to-the-day since I took the reins and made Dylan and Eoghan's lives a thousand times better with my presence. They're so blessed and so am I.

I think I'll remind Dylan about that since we're still hours away from tonight's festivities and I'm desperately bored. "Hey, you."

He doesn't respond but lifts his eyes up from the newspaper spread out across the bar and aims them right at me.

"Who's blessed?" I ask him and playfully fold my arms behind my back.

He pulls his lips into his mouth and I'm certain he's doing it to drive me mad. He's got to know that I'd love to feel those lips against my own...at least one time. And for him to taunt me today, on the one year anniversary of meeting, is especially cruel because it's been 365 days with not a single kiss.

Regardless, I carry on. "Tell me, who's blessed."

As always, Dylan's eyes do all the talking for him. You are, he conveys and then smirks at me.

"No, you are," I argue back. "It was one year ago today that I came into your life and saved your little pub. I should get my own day of celebration like Saint Paddy or Saint Brigid."

"Hey now," he admonishes my blasphemy and shakes his head.

I bet he's aching to cross himself. He wears that golden crucifix beneath his t-shirt every single day. I saw it one time by accident when it popped out of his shirt while he was rolling a keg. He quickly tucked it back in, but now I know it's there now. That day was almost as exciting as when I tripped and accidentally spilled the better part of five drinks on him. The fabric of his t-shirt clung to his torso and I got a hint to what's going on beneath his armor.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he's cut like my granny's washboard.

Eoghan ran upstairs to get him a dry shirt way, way too fast, and then Dylan turned his back to me while he changed. I didn't turn away, not even for a second. I didn't want to miss the view of Dylan's back, which is deliciously sculpted like all those Greco-Roman sculptures over at the Crawford.

Damn, he makes my knees weak.

Which gets me back to my original point...I can't believe this eejit hasn't kissed me yet. Usually, I'd take matters like that into my own hands and snog him, but Dylan is special in eight different kinds of ways, and above all else, he doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do. Ever. The rejection I'd feel if he pushed me away would be too much to bear at this point.

So, I wait, and flirt, and wait some more for the bloke to make his move. It took three months of knowing him to understand that he has his own style of flirting. Usually, it's in these exact moments. It's the slightest change of his facial expressions. His lips pulled into his mouth definitely means he's game for a little flirting.

It took six months to have an honest-to-god conversation that went beyond the business of the pub. Eoghan was out that night, so Dylan and I ended up closing together. He'd been in a horrible mood for my whole shift and I spent the majority of it wondering if I'd done something to upset him.

The doors were locked as we cleaned up and the silence between us was unbearable, but I was too much of a chicken to confront him on it. He ended up dropping a wine glass and it shattered, then the expletives flew out of his mouth in a way that I'd never heard from him. At first, I was terrified to go to him, but when I noticed he wasn't moving toward the back room to get the broom, I knew it was more than a simple bad mood. He sat down on the floor with all the broken glass and pulled his knees to his chest.

It took me a moment to process what he'd done, but once I had, I put down my rag and went to him, kicked some of the glass away and sat down in front of him. His eyes were unfocused and distant. And honestly, I was still scared, but I knew in my heart that this was a man that needed a friend then more than ever.

Finally, I found my courage and asked in a near whisper, "Dylan, what's wrong?"

He shook his head just as I was expecting. There was no way he was going to open up and spill his secrets on the first ask. But instead of poking at him and using my voice to ask again, I decided to wait.

When there was still nothing after a few minutes, I moved my head to the side and put my face into his vacant eye line.

It must have startled him ever so slightly because he started blinking. I sat back up normally and his gaze followed my own.

I was so tempted to ask him the question again, but I held out. Just give him time, I kept telling myself. We sunk into each other's eyes and stayed that way for what could have been hours or mere seconds. It was one of the most intense moments of my life. Tears started to form in my eyes and when one slipped down my cheek, a little spark ignited within him and he reached out to wipe it away with a gentle touch. He shook his head once as if it say Don't cry for me. Then he swallowed hard and started talking. Slowly at first, but he ended up telling me everything. The floodgates were opened and I learned more about him than I knew about most people.

His parents had moved to Limerick without telling him, that was at the crux of his dismay that day. But it was so much bigger than that. They'd been estranged since the death of his sister, Ciara, seven years ago. It was an intentional overdose and Dylan was the one who found her. But her troubles began years before. They hadn't known how to help her while she was alive and they certainly didn't know how to help themselves once she was gone.

It was apparently too painful for them to carry on in any way as it had been before, but he never figured they'd move away without telling him. So when he found out from their old neighbor who happened into the pub one day, he didn't believe it. He rushed over to his childhood home and found a new family living in it. It was startling and it hurt him more than he'd ever figured was possible. Old wounds reopened and all that.

We ended up talking all night long about our life histories and I walked home at dawn feeling as if I'd been given one of the greatest gifts. He opened up to me and that is not something he does for everyone.

I'd shared so much about myself too, about my mom's passing when I was born, but that's not all that unusual. I'm an open book. The one thing I didn't have the heart to tell him about was New York and I still haven't done it. I'm not sure why I just can't bring myself to do it. Maybe I'm afraid he'll close up again. Maybe I don't want him to feel like he's losing another person that's important to him.

If I'm important to him.

Some days, I feel like he's the only person who really sees me. And today on this new year's eve is one of those days.

Maybe tonight he will let his guard down once again, but this time I'll get it all. God, I pray so. I'm not sure how much longer I can take his smoldering everything without jumping his bones.

With one final look before taking off for the storeroom, he melts me with his gaze, and just like the first night we met I end up holding my breath.