he always wore. Although it wasn’t the first time Mia had been confronted by the spectacle of Wyatt’s bare chest, it was the first time she’d found herself pressed up against it. She noticed several pairs of jealous female eyes turn their direction as he continued to hold her and Andie in a tight clench.
“You smell like beer.” Andie wrinkled her nose but didn’t disengage herself from Wyatt’s grasp.
“Did you hear us play?” Wyatt asked, steering them toward the green.
“I did,” Mia said. The music had carried over the whole square, so it had been impossible not to hear. “You were great.”
“Thank you!” Wyatt grinned, looking pleased, and kissed the side of Mia’s head.
“Where are we going?” Andie asked.
“To sit down, of course. I’m exhausted.” Wyatt led them to an empty spot at the end of one of the long picnic tables on the grass and collapsed onto the bench. Andie slid in next to him and Mia took the bench across from them.
“Is that wine?” Wyatt licked his lips as he stared at the cup in Mia’s hand.
“You can finish it,” she said, pushing it toward him.
“Have you eaten anything?” Andie asked and Wyatt shook his head as he downed the rest of Mia’s wine. “You need some food in your stomach. I’ll get us turkey legs.” She got to her feet, glancing at Mia. “You want one?”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” She’d never enjoyed tearing meat off a bone with her teeth, and anyway she was still thinking about the pickle soup. She might go get some for herself in a bit.
Andie pointed at Wyatt. “Stay with him and make sure he doesn’t wander off or get into any trouble.”
Mia wasn’t sure exactly how she was supposed to manage that, but she gave a thumbs-up.
Wyatt regarded her across the table, his expression growing abruptly sober and accusatory as soon as they were alone. “Josh told me y’all broke up.”
Mia felt ambushed after his friendliness a few minutes ago. He’d lulled her into complacency with his drunken geniality. She stared down at her lap, twisting her hands together under the table. “Did he tell you why?”
“He didn’t want to, but I wheedled it out of him.”
She actually felt relieved that Josh had opened up to someone. It wasn’t healthy for him to keep everything inside. “Is he okay?” she asked, looking up at Wyatt.
He tipped his Santa hat forward and scratched the back of his head as he considered his answer. “He’s not great, but…” He paused while he repositioned his hat squarely on his head. “I guess he will be. The damage probably isn’t terminal.”
“That’s something, I suppose.”
“Are you okay?” Wyatt asked in an unexpected show of sympathy.
Mia nodded, her throat growing tight. “Do you think I did the right thing?”
Wyatt’s jaw clenched as his mouth pulled into a flat line, all traces of sympathy gone. “You broke my best friend’s heart, so no, not really.”
She had that coming. But it was almost a relief to hear someone say it. Wyatt was the only other person who knew what had happened. The only person Mia could talk to about it, and the only one who would give her his unvarnished opinion.
“But do you understand why I had to do it?” she asked him. “Don’t you think it’s better, if I’m leaving next summer, to end things now, before he gets even more hurt?”
“I don’t know.” Frowning, Wyatt squeezed the medallion around his neck, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m not sure there’s a way to make any of this better. The whole situation sucks. I know it’s not really your fault that it sucks…” He dropped the medallion and lifted his gaze to Mia, his eyes soft and grave. “But I’m not sure he’s actually any less hurt now than he would be next summer.”
That definitely wasn’t what Mia had wanted to hear. She swallowed around a painful lump in her throat as Andie returned with two giant turkey legs.
“Eat this,” she told Wyatt, thrusting one into his hand as she slid back onto the bench next to him.
Mia got to her feet, gathering her bags of purchases. “I should get back home.” She couldn’t be here anymore, pretending to be fine when she wasn’t.
“Are you okay?” Andie asked, her face clouding with concern. She turned on Wyatt with a glare. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” he protested with his mouth full of roasted turkey. “Why do you assume I did something wrong?”