Page 2 of Defining Moments

“I am.”

“What are you doing driving for Uber in Dublin, Ethan?” I asked, laughing.

“My buddies and I are on a bit of an extended holiday,” he responded, his eyes glued to the streets ahead. “Have to fund the pub nights and it gives me something to do during the day. Breaks up the monotony.”

“Ah.” I responded already over the conversation and back to being engrossed in answering emails.

“Did you come in for the holiday?” Ethan asked from the front seat after a few moments of silent driving.

“Which one?” I responded.

“St. Patrick’s Day, of course.”

“Oh. I didn't realize that was today.” I realized I barely knew what month it was let alone day and winding up in Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day had been purely chance.

His eyes locked on mine through the mirror as he raised an eyebrow but thankfully, decided not to push forward.

This year had started to slip past me. I wondered what Natalie was doing back home for St. Patrick’s Day. This was a holiday we typically spent together, participating in the local pub crawls and joining in the celebrations that flanked downtown Washington, DC and though I missed my roommate and friend, that period in my life was now marked by sadness and not something I was eager to return to.

We rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence while I looked out the window at the beautiful scenery of my new home for the near future. I never booked my next flight, always unsure how long I would stay in one place, and Ireland with his blooming flowers and cheery smiles, held promise for spring.

When we arrived at Liam’s Hostel, Ethan stepped around to my door to help me out. It was the first time I’d had a chance to get a good look at him and I instantly regretted not doing it sooner.

Ethan was well over 6 feet tall with light brown disheveled hair and deep green eyes. His skin was tanned from the spring sun, and his body was muscular. I could see a few tattoos peeking out of his short sleeves but couldn’t make out what they were. His biceps, however, were bare and muscular. Ethan’s eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at me, his smile baring a deep dimple on his right cheek hidden by the slightest stubble. He was gorgeous and suddenly, I’d wished I hadn’t been on my phone the whole drive.

He stared back at me, a mischievous smile playing on his lips as if he knew what I was thinking.

“You know, Sasha, my buddies and I were planning on checking out some new pubs tonight for the holiday. Why don’t you join us?” he suggested.

I thought for a moment, though Ethan was beyond handsome, there was something behind his smile that begged for more than the one-night stands I was willing to participate in on my journey around the world.

“I’m not interested in hanging out with other Americans. I’m here to sightsee and immerse myself in the culture,” I replied, considering that was the safest response.

He smiled in response. “Well, just in case you change your mind, how about I give you my phone number?” His hand reached for my phone, and I dished it over.

With a smile, he entered his number and name, handing it back to me.

“It’s under Ethan Harrison – American Uber Driver in Ireland. Although, feel free to change it to ‘Ethan-Hot-American-Uber-Driver’ when I leave.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically.

“Goodbye, Ethan Harrison. Thanks for the ride. I’ll give you 5-stars for the driving but 1 for the conversation” I said sarcastically.

He turned, still smiling, as he strolled back to his waiting Volkswagen.

I knew that deleting his number would be the smartest move however, I couldn’t shake the urge to learn more about the attractive American Uber driver. Turning to head into the hostel, I decided that perhaps I would leave it in my phone if only for one more day…

Chapter 2: Ethan

Two months earlier…

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Ryan asked skeptically as I tossed another handful of t-shirts into a suitcase I'd propped up on my mattress.

"I've got no other ideas, man. A couple of months away is the only solution I can come up with."

My best friend hesitated, his eyes shifting between the half-packed suitcase on my bed and the doorway leading back out to the living room of my apartment. It seemed as if he were deciding whether to grab my suitcase and bolt, preventing me from embarking on the unhinged journey I had haphazardly planned only 12 hours before.

"It’ll be just for a few months. I'll take the time to get things figured out in my head, hopefully gain a new perspective on what happened and come back a changed man," I said, grinning, though I wasn't entirely sure what I was expecting from this journey, I hoped my response sounded convincing.

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