Half Wild, Half Yours

Waterline Confessions

I floated on my back in the cold lake water, arms stretched out like wings, eyes closed against the golden press of sun. The waterfall murmured nearby, but everything else—the trees, the birds, even Tyler’s happy barking in the distance—faded into the background.

This moment was perfect.

And I hated that it was.

Because the boy who’d brought me here had the kind of eyes I could write a whole playlist about. And the way he looked at me? It made the idea of staying still—for once—feel dangerously tempting.

But I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t.

Teddy was… something. Someone. The kind of someone you could fall for if you weren’t careful. And I wasn’t ready to fall. I wasn’t ready to stop moving.

I’d spent the last year in motion. One road leading to the next. One sunrise at a time. Van life wasn’t just a phase—it was freedom. And at 25, I wasn’t done chasing it. I still had mountains to hike, cities to get lost in, strangers to meet, and corners of the world I hadn’t even dreamed about yet.

I wasn’t ready to be someone’s something.

Maybe after today, Teddy would just become another face on my feed, another i********: follower in the digital rearview mirror. And that would be okay. That was the deal, right? Glimpses. Moments. Nothing more.

Something brushed my foot.

I yelped, kicking instinctively, body jerking upright. “What the hell?”

Teddy’s deep laugh broke the surface a few feet away, and I immediately swam toward him.

“You did not,” I said, eyes narrowing.

“I did,” he said, grinning like a menace. “It was too easy.”

“You promised no dunking!”

“Technically, I didn’t dunk—”

I lunged for him, trying to drag him under, but he was stronger, laughing the entire time as I flailed against his solid chest. After a minute, we gave up the fake fight and just treaded water beside each other, our laughter softening into something else. Something quieter.

“So,” Teddy said, water beading down his temples, “your parents. Do they miss you being on the road all the time?”

I hesitated, then decided—screw it. I’d probably never see him again. Might as well be honest.

“They’re hippies,” I said with a small shrug. “Supportive ones. They raised me to be wild and curious. They love that I’m out here, doing something different. We FaceTime every week. It’s kind of our thing. But they don’t follow me on social media.” I smirked. “They say they can’t figure it out.”

He laughed. “That’s kind of adorable.”

“Yeah, they’re good people.”

“Any…boyfriends?” he asked casually.

I glanced sideways at him, eyes narrowing slightly. “Fishing for info?”

“Maybe.”

“No boyfriends,” I said truthfully. “I don’t really… do relationships. Not while I’m like this. Not when I’m still trying to figure myself out. The only man in my life is Tyler.”

Teddy chuckled. “Honestly? I respect that.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Rockstar boyfriend status yet?”

He snorted. “Not exactly.”

“Well, tell me then. Your music. The band. Is that your endgame?”

Teddy grew quiet for a moment, eyes drifting toward the treetops. “It’s what I want. Music has always been the thing that makes sense. I want to do it full time, give it everything. But…” His voice dropped, roughened. “My parents don’t approve. They want me in the family business. My brothers are already part of it. I’m the black sheep.”

“You feel like you disappoint them,” I said gently, not as a question.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s rough,” I said. “But also? Brave. To still chase what you love anyway.”

He looked over at me then, and the heat in his eyes wasn’t from the sun. “Maybe you’re braver than me.”

“Nah,” I said, spinning slowly in the water. “I’m just stubborn and allergic to cubicles.”

He smiled. “That too.”

We drifted closer in the water, silence stretching warm between us.

For once, I didn’t try to fill it.

We treaded water, slowly circling each other like gravity had opinions about us. The sun hit the surface of the lake in shimmery bursts, and I floated between the calm of the moment and the tension that simmered just beneath it.

Teddy inched a little closer. “Can I tell you something?” he asked, voice low.

“Sure,” I said, trying not to drown in the way his eyes held mine.

He let out a breath. “I knew you were going to be at the coffee shop.”

My brow knit. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I didn’t know know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I saw that you’d posted from there before on i********:. So… every morning since the night at the bar, I went, hoping you’d show up.”

Butterflies exploded in my chest. Tiny, irrational, overcaffeinated butterflies.

And I didn’t look away.

I blinked at him, the water suddenly feeling warmer—no, maybe it was just me, heating from the inside out.

He’d been going to that coffee shop… hoping to see me?

Butterflies flared in my stomach like they’d been set off by a firework. I stared at him, trying to play it cool even as my brain short-circuited.

“I, uh…” I swallowed. “That’s kind of… intense.”

Teddy ran a hand through his wet hair, eyes cast down for a second before flicking back up to mine. “Too much?”

“No,” I said, quick and quiet. “Not too much.”

He gave a lopsided smile that made my heart kick. “I feel like I can just… talk to you. About anything. Like I could tell you every messed up, confusing thing in my head, and you’d still look at me the same.”

I looked at him for a long second, my pulse thudding so loud I was sure he could hear it echoing across the water. Then I said, “You’re not wrong.”

He tilted his head.

“I mean, you could. Tell me anything,” I said softly. “And I’d still look at you like this.”

Teddy swam closer water, the distance between us narrowing. There was maybe a foot left now. Maybe less.

“And how exactly are you looking at me?” he asked, voice low, curious.

“Like I don’t know what to do with you,” I whispered.

“Do you want to figure it out?” he asked, barely louder than the water rippling around us.

I didn’t answer—not yet.

But I didn’t move away either.

The air between us had thickened, heavy with something I didn’t know how to name—but I felt it. I could see it in the way his eyes flicked to my lips, like he was thinking about kissing me.

And for one reckless second, I thought maybe I’d let him.

But the weight of it all—the pull, the closeness, the way my heart wouldn’t calm down—was too much. So I did the only thing my impulsive brain could come up with.

I splashed him. Hard. Right in the chest.

Teddy blinked, caught off guard, water dripping from his lashes. “Did you just—?”

I splashed him again before he could finish, grinning like a maniac. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, it’s war now,” he said, eyes lighting up with something mischievous.

And then he lunged, sending a wave crashing over me. I shrieked, laughing, and tried to paddle away, but he followed with another splash, and soon we were full-on soaked, yelling and laughing like kids on summer break.

Somehow, the splashing turned into chasing, the chasing turned into breathless giggles, and the tension that had been coiled so tight just… eased. But the heat between us didn’t vanish.

Teddy tried to catch me in a headlock, but I wiggled like my life depended on it, laughing too hard to take it seriously. His arms slipped around me, mine wrapped around him, both of us too stubborn to surrender.

“You’re slippery,” he muttered, gripping tighter, our bodies pressed together as we wrestled half-heartedly in the water, splashing and spinning.

“Better than being predictable,” I shot back, breathless.

Somewhere in the middle of our watery struggle, I suddenly became aware of how my legs had wrapped around his torso. When had that happened? One second we were playing, and the next I was wrapped around him like he was the only solid thing in a world of water.

I froze.

And that’s when I felt it. The hardness against me. My whole body lit up like a flare. My core throbbed in response, heat blooming low in my belly. His hands were still on me, our skin slick and wet, our breaths mingling. I started to lean in, the world narrowing to nothing but the space between our mouths—

Tyler barked.

Loud. Sharp. Immediate.

I blinked, reality snapping back like a rubber band. My heart slammed into my ribs. Without a word, I pushed away, diving under the surface in a flurry of bubbles, swimming straight for the waterfall. The cool rush of it poured over me, a welcome distraction from the way my skin still burned from where he touched me.

What the hell was I doing?