I punched him. Like Astrid and her home run, I only needed one swing. His nose crunched beneath my knuckles and I felt a thrill of satisfaction when blood spurted. He grabbed his nose and bent at the waist.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Eddie shouted. Blood slid down his face, dripped off his chin.

I stood there, fists clenched, practically daring him to say more.

“Whoa, what’s going on here?” Michael asked. He put his arms out as if he were a ref separating two rowdy hockey players. I took a step back, then another.

“He shared some things that were better off left unsaid,” I replied, trying to be diplomatic.

Astrid came over, stood beside me. She went up on her tiptoes, whispered in my ear. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.”

I looked down at her, took in those green eyes behind her glasses. The mischief in them. “Yeah, it felt damned good,” I whispered back.

Amy ran up, got in Eddie’s face.

“You told him?” Amy waved her arms, eyes wild. Eddie could barely see her around his hand. Blood was staining his fucking golf shirt. “How could you tell him?”

Everyone came over, circled around so we were all in the middle of the outfield.

“Tell him what?” Eddie asked her, playing dumb.

“Do you know what she’s talking about?” Astrid murmured.

Eddie wasn’t in a relationship with anyone as far as I knew, or at least not anyone who’d been invited to the wedding festivities. He could fuck Sandra the Hooker until his dick fell off from an STD for all I cared, but I doubted he wanted to share that with the group.

I had no idea what Amy was talking about, nor why she was freaking out.

“That broken nose says you did,” Amy went on. “I can’t believe you.”

“No idea,” I replied to Astrid. We were low-talking so we didn’t interrupt the soap opera in front of us. My money was on Amy.

“I assume you punched him in the nose for a reason,” Astrid murmured.

“Oh yeah.”

“And Amy knows why?”

I shrugged, unsure.

“Amy, this isn’t the right—” She spun on Michael, who’d taken hold of her arm.

“Everyone wants to ruin this weekend for me. Especially Astrid,” she snarled, like a feral cat.

I bristled and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Astrid did too. I laced my fingers with hers.

“She makes a sub-par wedding cake, then she brings a boyfriend that everyone’s talking about instead of me. This fight… ” She waved her hand between Eddie and Astrid. “I told you it had to stay a secret. It’s not my fault you told Thatcher, Edward. Now Astrid knows.”

“Yeah, I know everything,” Astrid said, straight-faced.

She had no fucking clue, but she was playing Amy for details.