In the Study with the Wrench: A Clue Mystery by Diana Peterfreund

In the Study with the Wrench: A Clue Mystery by Diana Peterfreund

Author:Diana Peterfreund
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amulet Books
Published: 2020-10-13T00:00:00+00:00


15

Green

Not that Vaughn would admit it, least of all to the pretty girl currently pressing her lips to his, but he’d never been kissed before. Other kids at Blackbrook might view boarding school as one long experiment in hookups, but that was a dangerous game to play when you were Vaughn and Oliver.

But he didn’t want to think about Oliver right now. Not when he was finally—finally—kissing Orchid.

Because he was. Kissing her, too. The stupid guitar was trapped between them, but he’d never cared less about a musical instrument in his life. His hand trembled as he reached up and touched her shoulder.

Her lips parted. Vaughn nearly died on the spot. He pulled her in. The guitar strummed its protest. Neither of them cared.

She had her hand on his neck, the side of her thumb notched under his jaw, four fingertips pressing into the nape of his neck as if saying, closer, more.

He shoved the guitar to the floor, and it clattered against the wood.

She broke away, panting. “Oops.”

He couldn’t catch his breath, either. “ ‘Oops’ the guitar, or ‘oops’ kissing me?” If it was the kissing, he’d go throw himself off the side of the ravine.

“ ‘Oops’ the guitar.” She laughed. “I wanted to kiss you.”

Thank God. “I wanted to kiss you, too.” He still wanted to kiss her. He really, really liked the look of this fainting couch they were on. He thought they both might just fit.

“Me . . . Orchid,” she said. “I don’t think anyone’s ever wanted to kiss me-as-Orchid before.”

“You’re only Orchid to me.”

“Boy, do you know exactly what to say.”

But it was true. He’d done a double take when he’d seen her on-screen. The red hair and the glittery clothes. It was her, but not really. He’d heard of the heiress movies, of course, but they’d been more popular with little girls. Still, it was Orchid.

Or Emily. Didn’t matter. People took stage names. Why not the other way around? The girl he’d gotten to know in the storm, over text—that was Orchid.

I believe when you really care about someone, it’s easy to see the truth of who they are.

“Orch—” But she was kissing him again, so he quickly shut up.

For not really having any idea what he was doing, he felt like he must be doing okay, since she wanted to go again. He had one hand in her hair and another at her waist, and she was tugging at his shoulders as if she wanted him to lean in—no, to lower her down toward the cushions, as if it was his birthday and Christmas morning and all his ships coming in at once, and apparently she had the same idea as Vaughn about how well they’d fit on this couch, and she was very soft and her hair smelled very good and—

“Wait,” she said against his mouth, and he pulled away. It was hard, but he did it. “I was just thinking, Dr. Brown is on the warpath. She’s been handing out insane punishments for, you know, sneaking around this house, doing things that are not schoolwork.



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