Summer completely broke up, leaning against the wall and laughing herself breathless. “You are the /worst/ liar. Look, can I call you Leo?”
“Am not!” he protested, pursing his lips. “I can lie, at least. A worse liar would only tell the truth.” Glancing over, he ran his eyes over her face, trying to gauge her level of seriousness. “I guess? Most people don’t. My mum calls me Leo. Dad calls me Lee. Everyone else is Fitz, usually.”
“Fitz seems so … impersonal.” She shrugged. She didn’t bother to tell him that a truly skilled liar could tell nothing but the truth and still have you believing all the wrong things; she rather thought it might explode his brain. “Come on, we’re going to get you some ear plugs. And maybe a little time at the range. If people are going to be shooting guns next you, you should at least know which bit is the safety.”