The Life That Mattered (Life Duet 1)

Graham narrowed his eyes at me while Lila snickered, turning to nuzzle his neck. She’d mastered the art of ignoring our banter.

Smart woman.

The truth? Graham and I should have never dated. We were destined to be friends—giving-shit, banter-driven, sports-loving friends. When Lila went through many years of her Graham-is-a-spoiled-rich-kid phase, I liked Graham. We hung out in college while Lila studied because she took school seriously, while Graham and I bet on college football and basketball.

After we graduated, Lila traveled for several years. I worked some odd jobs that didn’t actually require a science degree before deciding I wanted to make body products. Graham accepted his rightful seat helping run the many family businesses while being groomed for a position in politics. When Lila returned from her worldly travels, Graham wasted no time going full-on over-the-top Porter-style campaigning for her affection. And they lived happily ever after. At least, that was the plan.

I skipped the massage and wandered a few blocks away from the hotel with my reminiscent thoughts keeping me company on my lonely outing. A whimsical wood sign for a bubble tea cafe caught my attention. The instant I opened the door, I began to salivate. Really, what was that smell?

“Welcome.” The brunette with braided pigtails smiled at me from behind the counter while sliding hot buns onto wood serving trays. The quaint, eco-chic cafe had odd-shaped, old-wood tables, a few bookshelves, and lots of places to plug in computers while sipping bubble tea and salivating over hot buns in unique flavors like matcha, dark chocolate, and tomato basil. A perfect find for me that morning.

“I’ll have the berry blend bubble tea and a lemon coconut bun.”

“Those have five more minutes in the oven. Are you okay with waiting?”

Waiting for hot-out-of-the-oven buns? Yeah, I had all day. Hot lemon coconut buns had to be better than the champagne and sex going on back at the hotel.

“Five minutes is just fine.” I set my money on the counter while she made my tea.

Turning, I scanned the place for somewhere to sit, but early birds occupied all of the tables. Hoping someone would leave soon, I sipped my tea and waited in the far corner by the bookshelves filled with tea pots, books on tea, bubble tea straws, and other tea paraphernalia. When braided pigtails called my number, I took my tray with the hot bun on it and inspected the table situation again.

“Do you want your drink and bun to go?” another girl behind the counter asked.

“Yeah, maybe.” My lips twisted to the side.

“There’s a chair right here. I’ll be done soon.”

I turned toward the male voice.

A handsome Asian man, sitting at a small table by the window, gestured to the empty seat across from him.

Curiosity formed a smile on my face.

Attractive stranger. Quaint cafe. First day in Vancouver.

Who could say no to that? “Thank you.”

He nodded before returning his attention to the book cradled in his hands. A real physical book. Not an e-reader or laptop. He must have been from another planet. My scientific brain had always suspected life beyond Earth.

I stared. It was hard not to stare, even with the sweet lemony bun aroma wafting toward my nose. The generous stranger owned a kind, bright smile, and he hailed from planet Paperback Books. Did I mention his sharp jaw line and high cheekbones? It was all too much.

Mischievous eyes conveyed an unspoken pleasure. They dared me to reveal my own level of happiness and curiosity.

The hair though … seriously … The. Hair! Jet black. So thick.

It looked like a missed attempt at parting it on the right—the opposite of Graham’s gel-suffocated Ken doll look.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he murmured just before sipping the coffee in his right hand while keeping ahold of his book with his left hand, leaving his gaze on the pages.

“Sounds like a backward pickup line.” I used my fork and knife to cut the bun in half.

He shot me a furtive glance. “Ah, you mean the tried and true, Do you come here often?”

I grinned, peeking through my eyelashes as I kept my chin tipped toward my food. “It has stood the test of time.” At least, on my planet.

“Well … do you? Come here often?” He leaned back in his chair, sliding his bookmark between the pages before setting the book onto the table and resting that hand on his leg. His other hand cupped the mug of coffee. The guy looked like he should be on a billboard for something really sexy. Cologne? Jeans? Underwear? Allergy medication? Erectile dysfunction? Nah … surely not. He was the epitome of put together—light gray suede boots and perfectly fitted faded jeans. His cream shirt hugged his torso just enough to let the world know he worked out, but he kept it partially hidden under a gray notched-collar peacoat and a deep red checked scarf as if he didn’t need to flaunt his physique.