Page 33 of Three Months Yesterday

Part of me is surprised by the discomfort Beckett clearly feels when he receives a compliment. Considering how big of a celebrity he is, I’d think it’s something he’s more than used to. I mean, you don’t make it as big as he has without having some serious talent—or at least, you shouldn’t.

But even only knowing a little bit about him, the other part of me isn’t surprised at all. Beckett is one of the most down-to-earth people I’ve ever known. Even with all the fame, he doesn’t seem to think he deserves the recognition he gets. And it makes me want to look him up all the more.

Meadow nudges at my arm, reminding me exactly what Noah’s doing here, and I have to put my itch to learn more about Beckett on hold.

Taking the lead from Noah, I rub at Meadow’s forehead, the smile stretching across my lips so wide I know my cheeks will ache later.

“She’s a beauty,” Beckett offers, reaching out to Meadow, pausing before he actually touches her, letting her take the lead. It’s only a few moments before Meadow nudges at his hand, causing another bout of tears to form.

“You know how to work with horses?” I ask, forcing my emotions down. I’ve cried more than enough in the last week; I don’t need to cry more.

“Not really. Just following your lead.”

The words are so simple, yet they mean more than he could possibly know. There aren’t many people in my life who are willing to follow my lead, no questions asked. To have someone who doesn’t know me well, offer me that kind of trust and support is new.

But there’s no time to explore that feeling before Noah is stepping out of the trailer, leading the beautiful chestnut colt with a blanket of white hair on his rump showcasing a few light brown flecks I know will only grow more numerous as he gets older.

All thoughts of the man beside me fade away, and all my attention is set on getting these beautiful animals settled in their new home.

“Lead the way, Mads.” Noah smiles, and I do just that.

My phone lights up in the darkness of my room, and I roll over in bed to grab it. I’m not surprised when I see notifications for a few missed calls and texts from Aaron, but I bypass all of that for the text that just came through from Ryan.

Ryan

Are you actually writing yet or are you still getting distracted by the pretty lady you’re living with?

I roll my eyes, annoyed that he’s not entirely wrong.

The woman is a walking distraction. Made worse by the fact she doesn’t even need to be in my vicinity for my mind to wander.

The truth is, while I’ve seen and spoken to her every day since I arrived, we’ve still barely spent more than twelve hours in each other’s presence. Four days with open access to her house, and I’m amazed we haven’t run into each other more.

Not that I’m trying to invade her space. I don’t know if I’d actually be able to play as much as I have if she were home more. She wouldn’t ask me to stop, but I already feel guilty being in her space; it’d be so much worse intruding on her limited alone time.

The woman works harder than anyone I know, and my parents worked their asses off to give me everything I needed to achieve my goals—both of them working two jobs at some points to have the money to spend on my music lessons.

Sometimes I wonder if she’s avoiding me, but then I see her busting her butt around the property or with her family and I know her avoidance isn’t purposeful—she’s just that busy.

Forgetting about my slight obsession with the woman next door, I focus back on the text and respond to the only part I can argue.

I’m not living with her, jerk.

Ryan

But you are stalking her…

I flinch at the word choice.

There was a time where I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but considering Ian had to rush out of here earlier this week to deal with my stalker, I can’t stomach the joke.

Let’s pick a different word. I don’t like that one anymore.

The text barely goes through before my phone rings, Ryan’s name popping up at the top of my screen.

I throw the covers off and move to sit on the edge of the bed, knowing there’s no going back to sleep now. Not that I expected that to happen with the dreams that woke me. Ones that had me reaching for my aching cock.

“You didn’t have to call,” I answer, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on the nightstand to pull on a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt before moving downstairs.