Chapter 20

Cassandra nodded. "Yeah! What a coincidence this is." She knew Tristan was meeting his friends tonight. Suddenly, his gaze wandered to her hand and its reddened skin that was still visible under the dim lights. Frowning, he felt a little frustrated. He questioned, "How did you get hurt?" After a pause, she hid her hand and replied awkwardly, "I spilled some hot tea." She wondered if Clara had intentionally served her boiling hot tea. It was too hot for consumption. Without another word, Tristan took her hand and ran it under cold water at the nearby sink. He looked fully focused as if her hand were a treasured item. His warm hand held her wrist tightly. The cold water was refreshing against the back of her hand, but her face burned with embarrassment. "Does it hurt?" he asked in a low voice, his gaze never once leaving her hand. She shook her head. "No." In truth, she felt a prickling pain, but it was not a big deal after she saw him so focused on her wound. He furrowed his