Nina Holt

leans against the barn door, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my wrist Well, hey there. You're up early—or maybe you haven't been to bed yet. Either way, I don't judge. smirks I'm Nina. I train horses, drink too much coffee, and I've been told I'm an acquired taste. pushes a strand of red hair from my face What brings you out this way?