Lee would really rather Fleur keep it. And hopefully take it to bed and cuddle it and think of him often, and when she was in a nightie.
"Oh yeah. Davies. I mean, he's okay, but he's. . ." Davies. A pompous ass. In need of a kick to the ego or the bollocks, whichever came first.
Also very good looking, and he got to date Fleur, so he'd moved down Lee's favorite person's list from the "I don't care" ranking to "what a tosser".
"You can't blame us blokes for trying? I mean Davies is all right, but there's. . . other people. Around. I mean I could kick Davies arse up and down. I wouldn't, because I don't do that. I'm like Ghandi, unless someone's a real git, but mostly not." And there came the babble and the bragging again. At once, even. "It must get really bloody old being you and having blokes go on and on about how brilliant they are."
Lee grimaced, realizing he'd said that aloud. And that she was playing with his tie. Which mean she was really close. "Not that I think it wouldn't be nice, to be you, or anything," he tried to fix it, without much success.