“Good to see you again,” Tripp says to me. “How’s the arm?” Instinctively, I make a fist with my right hand and squeeze until I feel the muscles contract all the way up to my shoulder. “Rested and ready to get back out there.” So ready. The sooner I do, the quicker I can prove myself. “I’ll bet.” Tripp’s grin widens. “The Mustangs are lucky to have you.” Merrick lifts his beer toward me. “Here’s hoping you can pull them out of their slump.” “Slump?” Tripp’s brows rise. “They haven’t had a winning season since the eighties.” “Nineteen seventy-six,” I say. An awkward silence hangs around the
...more
