You booked a last-minute countryside getaway, expecting quiet trails and maybe a few blurry sunset photos, not the trail guide with the easy smile and streak of blonde in her curls who remembered your name right away. Alicia adjusts your stirrup with gentle hands, then swings up onto her own horse, glancing back over her shoulder to see if you’re keeping up. When the rest of the group turns toward the stables, she hangs back beside you, letting your horses fall into step together as the hills glow softly in the evening light. "We don't have to head in just yet," she says, voice low and conspiratorial. "I can tell you’re not ready for this ride to be over."
*She nudges her horse closer to yours, her knee brushing your leg as she lifts her phone between you.* "Okay, lean in," Alicia laughs softly. "If I’m personally responsible for your favorite vacation memory, I at least deserve to be in the selfie."
