Chapter 8
“I’m positive we had sex three times, Kilo. Did you forget to wrap up?”
“We fell asleep and—”
“Shit! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I had no way of contacting you because you ran away like a scared little girl.”
“Nigga, ain’t nobody scared of you. I had somewhere to be,” she lied.
“Sure, you did, but regardless, I didn’t have your number.
I tried to tell your mean ass after the meeting the other day, and I don’t have to tell you what happened then.
To prove my point a little further, if I’d known you were Nyeem’s mom, I would’ve gotten your number from him to let you know you might be carrying my seed. ”
“You wish. Have a good day.”
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and strutted away, and I watched until she disappeared inside the building. I briefly wondered how she had access to the facilities, but another phone call pulled me from my thoughts.
“Wassup?” I answered.
“I touch down this afternoon, and I’m staying at Black Elm Suites. I can meet with you and the AD to go over the contract tomorrow,” Ward said.
“What time?”
“Does nine work?”
“I’ll check with her assistant. If I don’t hit you up with a different time, I’ll see you tomorrow at nine.”
“Bet.”
The call ended, and after a few basic stretches, I started the mile run that Nyomi’s presence had delayed before starting the rest of my day.
About an hour later, Knox entered the main area of the football office right behind me and followed me to my office. I sat behind my desk, and he sat in front of it.
“Ward will be here tonight. The rest of the coaching staff has already started trickling in. I felt bad because we’re working that realtor to death, but she said she doesn’t mind.”
“It’ll be worth it once she gets all that damn commission. Did the Kurrie kid call you?”
“Yeah. He’s in.”
“Nigga! Why didn’t you lead with that? We’re about to make history!” he shouted, then clapped a few times with excitement.
“You damn right. I can’t wait to officially get started.”
Now that we’d hired all our position coaches, coordinators, strength and conditioning coaches, and selected our graduate assistants, I could breathe a bit. I’d been hustling since I was hired as head coach, and I felt a little more at ease now that my full staff had been hired.
“The weight room has been busier than I thought it would be for this time of year. Not as many of them went home as I thought,” Knox said.
“Yeah. I noticed that. I’ve been watching from afar, and I like what I see. The commitment they're showing without having to be told speaks volumes.”
“Yeah. We’ll lay out the summer practice schedule at the meeting on Wednesday. We only got eight hours a week for eight weeks, and one of those has to be optional for the players. I want to maximize the time we have until camp starts.”
We talked a little more about what we wanted to accomplish at the first official coach’s meeting before I shared my exciting news.
“I talked to Nyomi,” I told him as he prepared to stand.
Instead of leaving, he made himself comfortable again.
“How’d that happen, and how’d it go?”
“I went to the track to run a mile, and she was sitting in one of the end zones stretching.”
“Oh. Does she work on campus?”
I shrugged. “I wondered the same thing, but I would assume so since she has access to the facilities.”
“Shit, nigga. You know her first and last name. Look her up in the school faculty directory.”
I opened my laptop and logged in. I typed her last name into the faculty page search engine on the university website, and sure enough, it popped up.
“Nyomi Kurrie, Director of Library Services,” I read aloud, but more to myself than Knox.
“Damn. She runs the whole library? That’s dope. I don’t think I’ve ever met an actual librarian as an adult.”
“I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”
I clicked on the link that led me to her BEU profile. I’d read it after Knox left my office.
“So, did you get a chance to talk to her this time?”
“Yeah. We went back and forth about me setting her up, we kissed, Nyeem called—”
“Hold up. She let you kiss her?”
“She did, but Nyeem’s call interrupted us.”
“Did you eventually tell her about your possible slipup?”
“I did, and she didn’t react as badly as I thought she would because I reminded her how she snuck out without leaving her information. I was able to use that to help plead my case about setting her up.”
“Does she believe you?”
“I think so, but she wouldn’t admit it. I don’t think she’s on any birth control.”
“What now?”
“Hell if I know. She said she had to get to work.”
We sat quietly for a minute before Knox said, “Damn, Bro. You really like her.”
I sighed and shook my head, not to deny that I liked Nyomi, but to show my dismay.
“Man, I don’t even know what to do.”
“Are there any rules against coaches dating the parents of their athletes?”
“It doesn’t matter. She let me know there wasn’t a chance.”
“Word?” I nodded. “Oh well. There are plenty of available women in Black Elm. Did you see all those women at the mixer?”
“The only woman I saw at that mixer was Nyomi.”
“Damn. You got it bad. Well, good luck figuring that shit out, but tread lightly. If you fuck shit up with her, you might fuck it up with Nyeem.”
He left me alone in my office to ponder my thoughts. My laptop screen had gone dark, so I moved my finger over the mouse pad. Nyomi’s headshot and short bio appeared again, and I began reading.
She was a BEU alumna, and it appeared we just missed being on campus at the same time. She graduated four years after me and was a former member of the track and field team. She also earned a master’s degree in library science from BEU.
I opened a new tab and typed her name and "track and field" into the address bar. Several articles came up linked to her name, so I clicked on the first one. I read everything that was considered public information about Nyomi.
She was a heavily recruited high school track star but chose to stay close to home. After a breakout indoor season at BEU, she became pregnant and didn’t compete for a year. When she returned to the track, she was better than ever, even qualifying for the Olympic trials.
While training for the trials, she suffered a severe hamstring pull and didn’t recover in time to compete. She competed professionally for a few years after missing her chance at the Olympics but, unfortunately, never returned to her best.
After reading several articles, I understood the dynamic between Nyomi and Nyeem much better. He wasn’t conceived at the most opportune time of her life, but she chose to put her hopes and dreams on pause to bring him into the world.
There were pictures of her holding Nyeem on her lap in classes and in his car seat on the track while she practiced. He’d witnessed her achieve so much while being a fully present parent because, from what I gathered, she did it alone.
Nyeem’s father wasn’t mentioned once in any of the articles, which made me wonder what happened. I prayed she wasn’t taken advantage of by whoever he was, and he simply chose not to be present.
I picked up my phone and leaned back in my chair. After opening the Flikstagram app, I searched for Nyomi Kurrie, but nothing came up. It was possible she wasn’t on social media, but I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
I found Nyeem’s page and went to his followers. When I came across Gabrielle Kurrie, with the username @nyomithelibrarian, I paused, clicked the profile, and smiled as I confirmed it was who I was looking for. I pressed the follow button and proceeded to look through all her pictures.
I’d lost track of time, hearting every single picture of her alone. I received a notification that she’d followed me, and seconds later, I had a message from her. For some reason, I was nervous to read the message because it had been proven that she didn’t mind cussing a nigga out.
@nyomithelibrarian: Are you stalking me now? There is no reason I should open this app and have over a hundred likes from one person.
@coyotekilo80:
@coyotekilo80: My bad, baby. I got carried away because you look so damn good. Can I have your number?
@nyomithelibrarian: No, and if you keep liking my pics, I’ll block you.
@coyotekilo80: Damn. That’s cold. When can I see you again?
@coyotekilo80: Dinner, miniature golf, arcade, paint and sip, movie, sex . . . Anything.
I low-key sounded pathetic and was doing the begging I swore I’d never do, but it was too late to worry about it now.
@nyomithelibrarian: I already told you it’s not happening. We’ve already crossed the line once. It wouldn’t be right for us to keep seeing each other.
@coyotekilo80: What if I got Nyeem’s permission?
@nyomithelibrarian: I don’t need my son’s permission.
@coyotekilo80: I know where you live. I know where you work. I know where you work out. I’m not a stalker, but don’t push me. Besides, you might be carrying my seed.
@nyomithelibrarian: Don’t wish that on me. If I have any more children, it will be with my husband.
@coyotekilo80: Will you marry me?
@nyomithelibrarian: Goodbye, Kilo.
I chuckled at her response to my proposal but decided to leave her alone for now, before she blocked me. Flikstagram was my only way of communicating with her because using our work emails was out of the question.
Although she turned me down, I was still hopeful. If she didn’t learn anything about me, she’d learn I was persistent when I wanted something.
I managed to focus on work for the next few hours, with Nyomi invading my mind only a few times. Whenever I thought of her, my dick got hard, so I did my best to avoid doing so while in places where I couldn’t grab my dick and bust a nut.
“How long you staying tonight?” Knox asked from the doorway of my office.
“About to head out now.”
“Bet. Let’s go grab—”
“Nah. I need to take my ass to the grocery store. I’ve never eaten out this much in my life.”
He chuckled. “True, but after grocery shopping, do you ever feel like cooking?”