I quickly stood, took my plate to the garbage, and waited by the counter for Nyeem and his mother to enter the kitchen. Knox clearly couldn’t read the room because he’d added more food to his plate, went back to the table, and was feeding his face.
“Aye, man. Pause that shit so we can greet his mother properly,” I griped in a low voice.
He looked at me and frowned.
“She bought the food and told us to help ourselves. She should be expecting us to be eating.”
I shook my head as Nyeem and his mother’s voice grew closer. They entered the kitchen, and when my eyes connected with Nyomi’s, shocked wasn’t enough to describe her expression, and I was sure mine matched hers.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Knox look up from his plate.
“Oh shit,” he said with a mouth full of food.
“Umm, hello, gentlemen. I’m Nyomi Kurrie.”
She walked toward us with her hand extended, reaching Knox first. He quickly wiped his hands with a napkin before shaking hers.
“I’m Knox St Patrick. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. And you are?” she asked, offering me her hand, pretending my face had never been buried between her thighs.
As soon as our hands touched, I felt a bolt shoot through me.
“I’m Kilo St. Patrick. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same. Who’s the head coach?”
“I am. Knox will coach the receivers.”
“I take it you two are brothers?” She continued as if she didn’t already know.
“Yeah.”
“I can see the resemblance. Please, make yourselves comfortable. Eat as much as you’d like.”
“’Preciate that,” Knox said, then refilled his plate.
“You’re not hungry, Mr. St. Patrick?”
“Call me Kilo. I’m good, thank you. I had a bit before you arrived.”
“Shall we sit?” she asked, nodding toward the table.
I sat next to Knox, who was still feeding his face, while she and Nyeem sat across from us. My mind was everywhere but where it needed to be. I took a few deep breaths to center myself and said a prayer I wouldn’t fuck this up.
“We appreciate you agreeing to meet with us, especially this late in the game. Our roster for this season is solid, but we have a few missing pieces. Two of those missing pieces are at the receiver and defensive back positions. Nyeem, I came across your profile and viewed your film. I have to say, your talent is next level.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“May I ask, with your level of talent, why you chose track and field over football or basketball?” I asked.
“Why wouldn’t he?” Nyomi interjected, and I detected a bit of attitude in her voice.
“Most young men with his talent probably wouldn’t choose track and field over football or basketball.”
“My son isn’t like most young men. He’s equally talented in all three sports?—”
“Ma, please. I got it.”
