He accepts the towel with a little smile and starts rubbing it across his hair to dry it off, maybe a little too enthusiastically, since it starts to stick up in all directions, little curls springing up that he's never going to be able to tame back down. Oh well, at least his hair is relatively dry now, and he scrubs the towel across his face to dry that off, too. He's trying not to stare at Ned as he does so, but Ned's comment makes him both laugh and look a little flustered, which is a strange combination.

"If you wanted to get me out of my clothes," he says, looking around for somewhere to put the towel without getting anything else wet, although he's pretty sure he's dripping a puddle onto the floor as it is, "You don't have to say anything clever. Besides, if you were clever about it, it'd probably go over my head, and I'd miss any possible innuendo."

He's nervous, too, that much should be obvious from the way he's fidgeting, but he figures honesty is generally the best policy, and besides, it's not like he's capable of stopping himself from blurting things out anyway.