My Calling Read Online Free

her head so she’s looking at me.
    “Because I’m a bad boy and you can’t handle it.” Shit, that’s way too flirtatious than I wanted it to be but hopefully it’ll scare her off. 
    Calvin closes in on us and I begin to exit the rig. Right before Calvin’s in ear shot, Saylor grabs my hand, jerking my arm so that I turn to face her.
    “You have no idea what I can handle, Beck.”
    Her baby blues are shining as a smile spreads across her face. Shit, Saylor Warner is going to be the death of me, one way or the other.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 4
     
     
    Saylor
     
    Tugging on my skinny jeans that should probably be painted on my legs as tight as they are, I question why I put myself through this torture. Sure, I love to wear makeup and do my hair but the icing on the cake would be if I could walk around in sweats and a tank top all day. That’s probably the reason that I thoroughly enjoy our uniforms while almost every else hates them.
    Finally, getting the button through the hole, I exhale the breath I’d been sucking in as a locker slams to my left. I turn my head and don’t stop the smile when I see Bearded Beck standing a few feet away wearing nothing but his BDUs as he stares into his locker. At first, the whole idea of sharing a locker room was a bummer but I’m seeing the perks of it now.
    Going for the sneak attack, I tiptoe down the row, leaning against the locker beside his with my arms crossed over my chest. I have a perfect view of his sleeve of tattoos that looks like it consists of randomness thrown together but from personal experience, I’m sure it tells a story. I’d really like to reach out and run my finger over each one as Beck tells me the meaning behind them, but I’m going to go with that’s not an option based off my limited interactions with him.
    Beck slams the locker shut, startling me even though I saw it coming. His shirt in his hand, he narrows his eyes. “What?”
    My eyes roll to the top of my head involuntarily. “So, Beck, what is it that makes you a bad boy? These tattoos?” I can’t help myself as I place my hand on his bicep but my eyes stay locked with his.
    Beck glances down at my hand on his arm then looks back up at me. “If it’s the tats that make me a bad boy then that would make you a bad girl and we all know that’s not true.” His eyes move up and down my own tattoo sleeve that is visible in my tank top.
    He shrugs me off and tugs his shirt over his head, a smirk on his face as the fabric descends over his body. Ready to defend my bad girl status, I pause as a feeling of deja vu hits me. Beck’s dark, hooded eyes seem a bit softer with the half smile on his lips. I swear I’ve seen him before, but the man I’m thinking of laughed a lot more than Beck which still isn’t that much.
    The smirk disappears and Beck’s permanent angry face resumes. “Let me guess, you’re going to try to convince me how bad you are?”
    I shake my head, having totally forgotten about my argument. “No, but you look familiar. I swear I’ve seen you before… but smiling. Were you in any of my paramedic classes?”
    Beck freezes briefly then shakes his head. “I don’t smile so it wasn’t me.”
    Plastering a giant grin on my face, I tease him. “Come on, it’s fun to smile. Why don’t you?”
    Beck scoffs and turns away from me. “You’re crazy, Saylor, you know that?”
    As he walks away, the ink on the back of his bicep catches my attention. His legs are twice as long as mine so he’s already to the door of the locker room. I run after him, my heels clicking against the tile floor as I do but the urgency in my steps doesn’t slow Beck down. His hand on the door handle, I grab his arm, twisting my head to get a better look at the car inked on his skin.
    “Is that a 1970 Buick GSX?”
    Beck clears his throat but doesn’t pull his arm away. “Um… yeah.”
    “Cherry red even,” I mutter, more to myself than Beck.
    My index finger traces the outline