Chapter 9: The Smelly Hand

A taxi pulled up in front of the Marston Hotel. Trevor alighted. The moment he entered the lobby, he saw a slim, beautiful woman waving at him. It was Bessie. She stood by the elevator, smiling and waving.

She wore a white dress that accentuated her snow-white skin. She looked like a noble, elegant princess. No wonder many men were drawn to her. Trevor's eyes lit up. He quickly approached Bessie and handed her a gift box. "Sorry I'm late, Miss Taylor," he said. "Here's your birthday present."

Bessie smiled and placed the gift in her handbag without opening it.

Trevor was a little disappointed. "Aren't you going to open it?" he asked.

"I'll keep the surprise for later," she replied. "Let's go. I've booked a private room."

Smiling, Bessie took Trevor's hand, and they entered the hotel's private room. Inside, he found all the basketball team members except Dennis.

Bernard sneered. "Oh, you're finally here. Finished washing our clothes? I'll take that as a yes."

Several team members laughed.

Bessie frowned. "Stop that!" she ordered.

The team fell silent, exchanging glances. "Trevor, come sit here," Bessie said, patting the seat beside her.

Trevor looked and was stunned. At the other end of the seat sat a woman whose beauty rivaled Bessie's. She swung her long legs leisurely, watching them. She wore only a white shirt, accentuating her ample bust, and a pair of shorts.

Every man dreams of being sandwiched between two beautiful women.

Trevor hesitated, then sat where Bessie indicated.

"Bessie, is this the guy you wanted me to meet?" the attractive woman asked, eyeing Trevor.

"Yes," Bessie replied with a smile. "You should get to know each other. Trevor, this is my cousin, Corrie Taylor. She's a freshman at the university, just like you."

Bessie had introduced Corrie to Trevor because he had impressed her. He attended school while diligently working part-time for the basketball team. She appreciated his handsomeness, reliability, and ambition, despite his poverty. Corrie had recently gone through a breakup, and Bessie saw this as a good opportunity for her cousin to meet a trustworthy man.

"Hello, Corrie. Nice to meet you," Trevor said politely, extending his hand.

But Bernard wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't stand still, especially seeing Trevor, his rival, between two beautiful women. He gritted his teeth in envy.

Bernard snorted. "Trevor, you're just a poor loser. Of course, you're happy to meet her." He turned to Corrie. "This guy just runs errands for us. He washes our stinky socks and shoes all day to earn money."

Corrie's eyes flashed with contempt. She averted her gaze and moved away from Trevor.

"I'm a neat freak," she said. "Who knows what kind of smell is on your hand?"

Embarrassed, Trevor's hand froze mid-air. His hand wasn't smelly; her comment was clearly an excuse to avoid him.