Create a similar story with title, different names of characters, location set and please keep the lesbian details.
Avery Dimaano is good at most things. No, she’s better. She has amazing friends, a family that’s only slightly more dysfunctional than others, and an affable way of strutting through the world that makes her the quintessential person for the role of HR at Gia, San Francisco. There’s only one problem, she has no one to spend her weekends with. 
Travel influencer Ky Logan doesn’t play by anyone else’s rules. Her life of jet- hopping across the world is the envy of two million followers, even if her family doesn’t exactly approve. It’s a simple, adventurous existence with no one to answer to but herself. 
Six months after her trip to Sydney, Ky still can’t stop thinking about the woman she sat next to on the plane. Avery. Beautiful, clever, straight Avery. When a leak in Avery’s apartment leads them to share a bed for two weeks, lines inevitably become blurred, especially after the kiss they shared in San Francisco International. 
Maybe Ky is the person Avery has been waiting for, even if she’s never considered being with a woman. But is Ky’s time with Avery just another one of her vacations? 
Avery Dimaano is in an airport lounge in Sydney, Australia, awaiting her flight back home to San Francisco. Hungover and too frustrated to come up with her own coffee order, she tells the barista to surprise her when she is interrupted by a beautiful stranger, Ky Logan, who has overheard the entire exchange. 
The woman looked up with a crooked, if bashful, smile. “Sorry.” Even beneath the soft rays of the inlet lighting fixed to the ceiling, her skin had the subtle radiance of liquid caramel. She chuckled. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just didn’t realize people go around letting baristas experiment with their coffee.” 
Avery pushed her own sunglasses into her hair. Her eyes protested with a squint that made her reconsider exactly how soft the lighting was. She couldn’t think of any reason she was denying herself the simple comfort of tinted lenses, but the woman removed her glasses too, extending a hand, and Avery’s impulse suddenly made sense. 
“Ky Logan.” It left her lips like she was used to presenting herself this way—all casual yet formal about stating her full name. “You should have a regular iced coffee with coconut milk.” 
Avery smiled, accepting the handshake. “Avery. That’s a weirdly specific order.” 
Ky shrugged. “Caffeine isn’t actually great for a hangover, but since you’re clearly not too invested. Iced Coffee. Coconut milk. Trust me.” 
“Is it that obvious? The hangover.” 
“No. I just have a little practice with the signs.” Ky’s smile held, revealing a near imperceptible chip in her top right canine. “Although, full disclosure, I did also watch you rethink all your life choices with a single glance at that drink by the bar.” 
Avery’s amusement bloomed to a full-on laugh. The pounding in her head intensified, and she winced. “Shit.” 
Ky scrunched her face in solidarity, though the glimmer in her brown—more cognac-colored—eyes lingered, her gaze unrelenting, engrossed. 
Warmth prickled beneath Avery’s skin. Her gaze dropped to the site of the kindling, to her hand still joined with Ky’s. She startled into a backward step, licked her lips, and ran her reclaimed hand through her hair, only for it to get caught on her sunglasses. 
Ky’s brows inched up as she bit down on a smile. “Need some help?” 
“I’m good, thanks.” It took a second too long, but Avery untangled her eyewear, slipped them back onto her face and successfully raked a hand through her hair. She tried not to think about how the waves fell—if she looked a hot fucking mess right now—or how Ky seemed much too amused by it. 
The barista, too, had done a poor job of hiding how entertained they were by the entire exchange. “An iced coffee with coconut milk, then?” 
“Yes, please.”
“Make that two,” Ky chimed in.
Avery didn’t look at her. Not when her own skin was flushed and her cheeks were on 
fire, and she had no idea what the hell was happening right now. Her mind went back to the week she’d had—nothing like the seven-day bedroom marathon she’d planned, though she didn’t begrudge those eighty-degree afternoons on the beach, even if they had involved too much tequila. Tomorrow she’d be home where it wouldn’t merely look like Christmas decorations had exploded on every street. It would have temperatures in the sixties and all the family dysfunction of Christmas, too. 
Seriously, Australia was like a whole other dimension—one where Avery had been dumped by Oli before her plane had even landed in Sydney and she now had what her adept knowledge of rom-coms dictated was a meet-cute with women. One 
woman. The derailed train that was her thought process paused with a startling realization. 
Ky’s eyes were still on her. Avery felt more than saw it, because she was absolutely not looking, and she wished what’s-their-name would hurry it up just a little. 
“Two iced coffees with coconut milk!” 
And three shots of sunshine, apparently. Avery resisted the urge to roll her eyes but scolded herself for it anyway. Bitchy Avery was no one’s friend, including her own, and she was absolutely done with drinking. Forever. 
“Thank you.” She reached for her phone, retrieved a card from the back of her case to pay, then gestured to Ky. “Hers too, please.” 
“No.” Ky’s hand landed on Avery’s wrist with surprising intimacy. “I got it.” 
Their eyes met again—the warmth of Ky’s touch and eyes equally beguiling. One corner of her lips quirked up, and she squinted as if trying to decipher something in Avery’s expression. As if she already had. 
The buzz of Avery’s watch alerted her to the notification that boarding was about to start for her flight. She glanced at Ky’s hand on her arm; Ky’s nails polished an eye-catching shade of mauve, mismatched rings adorning her fingers. This time, Avery didn’t startle—she was not going to give anyone the satisfaction of witnessing that twice—and she licked her lips, taking a step back. “Thank you for the coffee suggestion. But my flight’s about to board, so I do have to excuse myself from this super polite standoff.” She offered her card to the barista without looking away from the smile budding on Ky’s face. 
Ky nodded. “When you put it that way...” 
There was something in her tone Avery wished she could grab and run through a 3D printer. Sit and analyze it. Even if she’d always prided herself on being the type of person who never had to overthink anything. It wasn’t friendly—Avery had had women hit on her before. 
Wait... 
Her eyes widened. Ky grinned like she could see it, even behind the shield of Avery’s too large sunglasses. 
“Your card, Ms. Dimaano.” 
She turned to the barista and mumbled, “Thank you,” then started toward the door. The unfinished thought in her mind lingered with quiet insistence. Ky was hitting on her, wasn’t she? The constant quirk of her lips, steadiness of her gaze, the way her hand stayed with Avery’s too long... 
Avery paused for a glance over her shoulder and their eyes locked, Ky’s coffee halfway to her lips. Avery’s gaze followed the motion as Ky took a sip, the peek of her tongue as it glided across her top lip to lick away a glimpse of foam. 
“Forget something?”