Page 62 of Co-Star


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“Now I have to read it. What’s it about?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

Reed laughed out loud again. “Well, that’s helpful. Thanks.”

“Dylan wanted to tell me, but I said no. I prefer to read a script with fresh eyes. No pre-conceived bias.”

“It’s too early in the morning for all those big words of yours, Tate.”

I poured his smoothie in a tall glass, added a glass straw, and slid it over. “Shut up and drink your breakfast, smart ass.”

Reed pretended to scratch his face with his middle finger.

I was so goddamn happy that our relationship was finally back on track.

“Did he email it to you or send it via courier?”

“Email,” I replied and then took a long sip of my own drink.

“Where’s your laptop?” Reed asked, getting up.

I shook my head and put down my glass. “Have your smoothie. I’ll get the laptop. It’s in my bedroom, somewhere. Under a pile of my crap.”

Reed snorted. “Your bedroom?”

“Fuck, yeah. Squatter’s rights,” I quipped as I made my way to the back of the house.

I wasn’t joking. Reed’s Spanish style house felt more like home to me than mine.

And sure enough, I found my laptop on my bed, under a pile of (hopefully) clean laundry. I also found the charger and headed back out to the living room.

Reed was leaning against the island, sucking down his smoothie with gusto. Watching his cheeks hollow and his throat move made my dirty mind kick into high gear.

Not that my mind needed to go there.

We’d finally circled back to being friends again. I didn’t want to let my stupid hormones fuck everything up.

Instead of being a perv, I sat my ass down on the sectional, opened my laptop and typed in my password.

“Your password is our old apartment address?”

I glanced over my shoulder to find Reed leaning over the edge of the couch.

“Do you mind?” I sneered at him.

Of course, it had absolutely no effect.

“No, I don’t,” Reed replied with a smirk and stood up.

He walked around the sofa to take a seat beside me.

The cats decided I was fair game and began to crawl over my lap as I tried to type. Grant’s fluffy gray tail hit me in the face, and I heard Reed’s snort-chuckle.

“What’s with the butt in my face?” I complained while Reed pulled Grant back into his arms.

“Too hairy?” Reed teased.

I was glad to see his sense of humor returning, even if it was at my expense.

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