Outlaw Women

Sparks

Ashlyn's POV
To say the past couple of weeks has been hell would be a serious understatement. Not so much the work. No, that had been the easy part thank god. Turns out, Luke was the easiest part of my life and that's saying something since he was catching a lot of flack from his fans for denouncing the Confederate Flag. Even with all the atriles that had cropped up and other artists who had taken to social media to call him a sell out, Luke had been the easy part of the last few weeks. What had been hell was keeping myself from jumping Brantley’s bones anytime the two of us were in the same room. I swear, that man has the ability to drive me insane with just one look. Most days I don't know whether I want to beat the shit out of him for being cocky or if I want to tear his clothes off and have my way with him. It couldn't be normal to have these types of feelings could it? 

"Sorry sweet cheeks," drawled a nasally voice making my head jerk up from the text I was replying to from Chase as I walked. The woman that I’d almost bumped into looked to be about twelve. Based on the clipboard she was carrying, she was an assistant to some but it was pretty damn obvious that she was new to the game. Was it just me or did these damn assistants seem to be getting younger and younger?

Shaking my head, I started walking again, focused one more on the text I had been in the middle of typing. Chase has been blowing my damn phone up since he found out Brantley was on this tour. He’d given me hell telling me that I’d met my match when it came to Brantley and that he would pay good money to see Brantley put me in my place. Even joked about meeting up with us on one of our stops if he was close. But the icing on the cake was when the idiot suggested the most asinine idea I think he had ever had. He suggested that I sleep with Brantley to see if the man could beat the bitchiness out of me. Claimed that if I got thoroughly laid, I would be a whole different person. What Chase didn't know was that I’d already been there and done that and that was part of the reason that I was finding the handsome but cocky devil so damn irresistible. Sure, Chase had been there that night and he had been the one to dare me to kiss him, but he didn’t know about the burning hot sex Brantley and I had shared in that broom closet.

Hitting send on the text, I knew that I wouldn't get an immediate reply since Chase had been about to go into soundcheck so I slipped it into the back pocket of my jeans. With my head held high, I walked across the lot, letting the warm sun kiss my skin.  

As I neared the door that would lead to backstage, I looked down making sure my all access pass was still around my neck. Maybe I shouldn't have worn the neon green crop top with my favorite dark wash holey jeans and boots. Thinking about my outfit choice, I laughed when I realized that whoever was working the door might think I’m a BG fan girl, trying to get some extra special fan attention. I groaned in frustration because as much as I wanted to deny it, Brantley was getting under my skin. I could feel myself letting my guard down a little more and more with him and I hadn't even been trying. But after the fiasco that had been my love life and the hell that I had gone through after Blake and I’s breakup, I was sworn off all artists for good. 

When I reached the door, I lifted up the lanyard, shaking it at the young security guy who let out a snort which did nothing to help my already sour mood. "Not good enough darlin. We've had some teenage fans fabricating those passes to get backstage. How do I know that you aren't doing the same thing?"

"Do I look like a fucking teenager?" I growled, pursing my lips before shaking my head causing my ponytail to swish around my shoulders. I used my hands to gesture at my body. I didn't have time for this ignorance. I was already late and this dipshit wanted to pull this crap. 

Snapping my fingers, I made the idiot look at me and not at my chest. What I didn't like was the smirk spreading across his lips as he finally met my eyes. He was giving me that sleazy look that men often got when they thought they would blackmail a woman into doing something for them to get whatever it was the woman wanted in return. "Listen here asshole, I can promise you that my SAT score was double if not triple that of those girls' combined scores. And I can promise you that my passes are legit. Don't believe me, ask the big guy I work for. Maybe you've seen him? Heavy set guy? Red beard? Goes by the name Luke Combs?”