Our gazes stayed locked for a long, tense moment before I finally moved back, and Alex dropped his hand.
Water had dripped from the edge of the table, and it took me a heartbeat to realize that some of it must have splashed onto him. Reflexively, I reached for the towel I'd been holding, intending to dab at the spill. But then I froze when I realized the water had landed on his torso.
My hand hovered midair, caught between instinct and restraint, unsure if I should move closer or step back. My eyes flicked up to meet his, and he was already watching me with a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
Instead of leaning closer to help clean him up, I stretched the towel toward his face, offering him the chance to wipe it himself.
