Shayla lay in her bed, once again not sleeping, just looking at the ocean. After Scar had left, she’d just stood there. It was funny how he’d gone down her steps and thrown his hands up in the air and acted like he’d won the championship game or something. It made her stomach flip-flop.

Scar seemed so much older than her. So grown-up. Not at all like Jason, who had looked so young when he told her he couldn’t move away from their small town.

Her phone buzzed, and her stomach flipped again, thinking it would be Scar. It was only ten-thirty, though, kind of early for him.

When she turned her phone over, she paused upon seeing the text from Jason. Hey.

Her heart thumped. She thought about how she didn’t even want to talk to him, which was weird. He’d always been her safe place. How long had she waited and waited and waited for him to call or text or something? How many nights had she wished he was here? She’d loved him. Trusted him. Once again, she weighed how she felt around Jason against how she felt around Scar. There was no comparison.

The thing was, as she’d retraced the details of the months leading up to moving, she realized he’d never been planning on going. He’d never worried about where they would live or what job he would get. Why hadn’t she seen it?

He texted her again. Shay, talk to me.

The very center of her being hurt just thinking of him. At least it wasn’t as bad as before. Before, she’d cried and cried and cried, barely able to go through with it all. The silver lining was that since she’d made all the plans, she hadn’t had to think about it. She’d just had to follow through. It’d been hard enough leaving her family; they’d all distanced themselves from her a bit. She’d been alone.

Wanting to think about something else, she texted Scar. Torrey Pines. She’d done a lot of research on the hiking paths there. It was kind of a ritzier part of San Diego by La Jolla, but open to the public. It would be busy this time of year, but she didn’t care.

He texted back. Pillow talk time?

Warmth settled in her stomach as she pressed his number.

He answered on the first ring. “Torrey Pines, baby.”

It made her smile to hear him say it like an announcer. “I’m excited,” she admitted.

He let out a soft laugh. “Obviously you’re excited, since you texted me and then actually called me. That’s a big deal, dream girl.”

“Dream girl?”

He sighed, and she heard a rustle over the phone. It sounded like he was getting into bed. “I decided you needed a nickname other than Kansas, and I think it’s appropriate. Maybe not that creative, but it kind of defines you, right? The girl who leaves her small town to follow her dreams. Works three years and saves no less. Remarkable.”

She snorted. “I’m not feeling so remarkable. Could we not talk about leaving my small town?”

“Okay,” he said. “We could talk about how the ‘dream girl’ could also mean something to others that say they want to date you.”

The butterflies that constantly plagued her when she was around him or talking to him flared up. She couldn’t help but be flattered. “Not that I have bad self-esteem or anything. I’m just saying you could probably have your pick in women.” She let out a slow sigh. “Strike that. I shouldn’t have said that. I think your ego is already inflated.”

“I shall strike it from the record,” he said in a British voice. “Counselor, let the record show that was properly struck. The girl thinks he’s a catch, but we’re striking that.”

She laughed now. He was funny. Feeling herself relax, she closed her eyes.

“So why did you call, dream girl?”

Not wanting to tell him the truth, she simply said, “Pillow talk is nice.”

“Ahh.” She could hear him take in a deep breath. “Yes, it is.”

Then she had a thought. “Did you pillow talk with lots of women?” As soon as she blurted it out, she wanted to take the question back.

He hesitated. “No. Well, like I mentioned, I had a girlfriend for six months recently, but she wasn’t a pillow talk kind of girl.”

This took her by surprise. She wanted to ask for more details. Had he lived with her? Had he loved her?

“No, we didn’t live together. Yes, there were other things happening.”

Again, it was like he could read her thoughts. She squirmed, embarrassed. Obviously he wasn’t a virgin.

“I wanted to marry her, but I told you about how she didn’t like my face.” He said it bluntly.

“The woman you dated was stupid. I really like your face.”

He roared out a laugh. “I will keep that on the record. Thank you.” He sighed. “It’s fine because life sucks, then ya die … That’s what my dad used to say.”

“That statement sucks,” she said, hating it but recognizing its truth. For the past month, she’d been feeling bad for herself, thinking that pain was only in her life, no one else’s.

“Yeah, it does.”

She thought about his life. Once again, she found herself wanting to know more about him.

“Good night, dream girl.”

Even though she didn’t like the name, she didn’t want to fight it. “Good night, SEAL guy.”

He let out a light laugh. “Is that my nickname?”

“I don’t know.” It didn’t fit, but she’d picked it off the top of her head.

“Guess we can work that out tomorrow too.”

“’Kay. Night.”

“’Kay.”

But neither of them hung up. At least, she didn’t think he did.

“Shayla?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re supposed to hang up.”

“So are you.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the sound of him breathing.

“O-kay.” He didn’t speak for a bit. “Should we just go to bed on the phone?”

“Uh-huh,” she said without thinking about it. Then she turned on her side.

“O-kay.”

She wasn’t sure how long she sat on the phone with him, but she didn’t remember falling asleep either.