Making Waves: A Perfect Kisses Novella by Ophelia London Page B

together and support each other. But thanks to a line of storms hovering over Indianapolis, all flights had been delayed for the next twenty-four hours.
    When Will had surprised her by dropping in at her apartment, she was already three sheets to the wind. The rest of the night was fuzzy at best.
    Justine stood and walked to the railing. “She was boating with friends at the lake,” she said, feeling the need to say it aloud. “They were racing another boat to meet at a cove when they hit choppy water; they think it was a wake from another boat. The jolt tossed Anna around like a rag doll. She hit her head.” A weight pressed down on Justine’s lungs. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been there when it happened—she could picture the scene clearly. “She got thrown overboard but she was still conscious and trying to swim—she’s an excellent swimmer, but there’s a dam on one side of the lake and it has strong currents, stronger than Anna. They said her lungs were filled with so much water not even CPR…” She trailed off, trying desperately to not imagine her best friend’s face, blue and lifeless.
    “It was an accident—I know that, intellectually, but that doesn’t lessen how afraid I am of the water…which isn’t even logical. I mean, I should be more afraid of other people drowning, not me. Right? Who said any of this is logical. Most fears are irrational anyway, and—”
    “Justine,” Will said, coming to stand beside her. “I’m so sorry.” He placed a hand over hers that had been clasped around the wooden railing like a vice grip. His touch was comforting, but it immediately brought another memory to her mind. Or rather, the lack of a memory: Waking up in Will’s bed alone, with no idea how she’d gotten there.
    “My best friend had just died,” she said, needing to speak before the lump in her throat got any lumpier. From out of nowhere, tears sprang to her eyes, so she covered her face with her hands, ashamed and hurt from the unhealed, Will-sized wound in her heart. “I was upset, you knew I was.”
    “Yes.”
    “And still you…you did that.” She felt his hand on her arm but she pushed it off.
    “Justine. It hurt you, I know. But I would do the exact same thing again.”

Chapter Six
    Will hoped what he was about to tell her would clear the air and give them a chance to start over.
    Or maybe, after she heard what had happened, it would just be over.
    Justine had gone very still. “I don’t remember everything that happened that night.” She took another step away from him. He didn’t follow. “I do remember crying. A lot.”
    “Yes, you cried a lot.”
    “You showed up at my apartment. Why?”
    He felt his brows knit together. “We had a date.”
    “We did?” She blinked slowly, looking baffled. “I don’t remember that.”
    “We had dinner plans. I was there to pick you up but you were…” He paused and ran a hand over his face, not enjoying recalling the memory. “You were hysterical, not making sense. You didn’t want me to stay but I wasn’t about to leave.”
    “I…don’t remember that part, either.”
    “Okay.” He turned to face her, leaning a hip against the railing. “I’m going to fill in some holes now,” he said, then waited for her to nod. “When I showed up at your apartment that night, you were pretty out of it.”
    “Meaning?”
    “You’d been drinking.”
    “Right?”
    “A lot, Justine.”
    “After Anna’s mom called, I raided my liquor stash.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “But after that…”
    “It took a while for me to get the story straight, but I finally pieced together that she’d drowned.” He paused, trying to gauge her reaction. She looked okay so far. “You were sad…inconsolable, and you were out of alcohol. You wanted to go to a bar, so you took off out the front door before I could stop you. It was pouring rain and you were halfway down the block when I caught up.”
    Justine touched her forehead.