The Jameson Brothers Bundle

by M. Robinson

“Sorry, I gotta bit of a foul mouth.”

  She smirked. “I see that.”

  “So you been cleanin’ me up, yeah?” I questioned, wanting to change the subject.

  She nodded. “Yes. After I threw your bike off you, I rode mine back to the river and grabbed the water bottle off my bike. Filled it up and came back to you. You’ve been unconscious for probably twenty, maybe thirty minutes. So are you going to tell me what happened here?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to answer, mostly because I didn’t want to ruin this moment between us.

  “You have something to hide, Noah Jameson?” she asked with a smile. However, her eyes expressed something I couldn’t quite place.

  “Doesn’t everybody?” I simply replied, making her eyes narrow in on me. Like what I said really hit home for her. “Besides, ya need to stop swimmin’ at that river by yourself. Won’t take much for that current to take you for a ride.”

  She sighed, smirking, and grabbed my head. “Alright, Evel Knievel, you’re good to go.” She helped sit me up, waiting until I caught my bearings before letting go of my arms once I was standing.

  My hazy eyes immediately took in her body, noticing her frame was petite too. They landed right on her bare stomach where her shirt was torn under her perky tits.

  On my twelfth birthday, a few weeks after Luke died, my piece of shit old man decided it was time I became a man. I crashed at the clubhouse, which I found myself doing more and more, wanting to get away from home. From Ma, especially when Creed wasn’t around. It was easier that way. Pops had him traveling a lot, taking care of club business more so now than ever before.

  I woke up in the middle of the night with my dick in some young blonde chick’s mouth, sucking my cock like a damn pro. She blew me until I came all over her lips, my whole body shuddering beneath her. I barely had time to figure out what was going on before she got me hard again. She pulled out a condom and ripped it open with her teeth, rolling it down my shaft. Her luscious frame crawled its way up my body, slid down my dick, and just started riding me. I think I came again in less than fifteen seconds.

  There was no kissing.

  There was no hello or goodbye.

  She got up and left like she was never there to begin with.

  The next morning Pops informed me her pussy was my birthday present. Saying some shit about it being a family tradition, and it was what he did for his sons to make sure they weren’t homos. I never saw her again, I couldn’t even tell you what she fully looked like, it was too dark. Since then, my dick had a mind of its own, but never like it was with Skyler.

  It was always different with her.

  She followed my stare, looking down to where I still hadn’t stopped gawking. With only her eyes, she peered up at me through her lashes. Smirking again. “You like what you see, Noah? Because you ruined my shirt too. I had to rip the bottom off to tend to your wounds.”

  I loved that she called me out on my bullshit. No one ever did.

  Even though I wanted to say I fucking loved what I was looking at, I ignored her question and simply replied to her comment about my wounds. “I’m fine,” I smugly stated, standing up straighter although it killed my ribs.

  “Oh yeah? Tell that to all the blood still pouring from your legs, arms, and face. I’d like to see you get home without my help.”

  “You gonna help me home?”

  “No.” She shook her head, smiling. “You just said you were fine.”

  “You gonna believe a person who just knocked himself out? I’m clearly outta my mind. Thinkin’ wit’ the wrong head.”

  Her eyes widened with a great big smile on her face, shocked as shit by my response. Her eyes quickly wondered to my dick and back up. So I decided to keep going.

  I was a Jameson after all.

  We didn’t have a filter.

  “Wanna help me out with that too? I mean… help me home that is. Sorry, it must be the huge bulge... on my head doin’ the talkin’.”

  “Noah Jameson!” She blushed, her jaw dropping to the dirt. “I… what… I… mean…”

  “It’s alright, Cutie, didn’t take long to have ya blushin’ and tongue-tied for me. I have that effect on girls.”

  I wasn’t bullshitting her, I had girls throwing themselves at me since they found out I was fair game. My pops made it known to everyone, besides Creed, I was a man now and needed to get my dick wet. Over the last year, I started hanging around girls because of it. Talking dirty was what I was used to, it was all I ever grew up around. The chicks I was chilling with didn’t think anything of it either, they were used to it too. But with Skyler it was different.

  It was more like playful banter than anything else, just to see her smile for one more minute. To make her laugh, blush, think about me when I wasn’t around. Something told me she had never met anyone like me before, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love that. She was the breath of fresh air I’d been waiting for, pulling me from the quicksand I had been rapidly sinking in since I was born. My world suddenly seemed brighter. She chased away my darkness without even knowing it, and a huge part of me knew she would. It was probably why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Skyler Bell was mine.

  And I knew that at thirteen-years-old too.

  She shook her head, smiling even bigger. “You—” she pointed at me— “are trouble! I knew I should’ve stayed away, especially after catching you gawking at me in my bikini the last time I saw you!”

  I grinned, purposely eyeing her up and down. Not holding back this time, I spoke the truth, “What can I say? I like beautiful things.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me still smirking. “Just so you know, your flirting isn’t going to work on me. I’m surrounded by actors all day, and I know when someone is full of it. And you, Noah, are so full of it, I’m surprised you can even stand.”

  “Actors?” I asked, jerking back.

  “Yeah.” Her smile eased, looking everywhere but in my eyes. “I’m uh… I’m an actress. Actually, I’m a performer. I can sing and act. I’ve been doing it all my life. I’m actually on a show filmed here in Southport, it’s why I live here for a few months out of the year. But um… anyway…” She shrugged, playing it off like it wasn’t a big deal, when it was such a huge one. She turned and started walking away from me, stopping a few feet ahead, calling out to me over her shoulder, “I can help you walk home where you can take care of your bulge by yourself, Mister. Or I can just watch you pitifully trying to once again save face and walk home by yourself, while laughing my ass off, of course,” she added all proud of herself, and I think I fell for her a little more.

  Her brightness overshadowing my dark demons once again.

  “Choice is yours, Noah Jameson, but if it was my choice, I’d go with the first one. It might make your hand tired, but I’m sure you’re used to it by now.” She winked and I busted out laughing, instantly hissing and grabbing my ribs again.

  Not only from my injuries but from the foreign feeling laughter brought upon me. The sensation was so unexpected as the noise left my lips.

  When was the last time I laughed? Really laughed?

  “Ugh, you boys… come on, I’m making the choice for you.” With that she walked back over to me, carefully placing my arm on her shoulder and wrapping hers around my waist. Gently tugging me to her side before we started walking, and I milked it for everything it was worth.

  “How old are you?” she asked, looking up at me.

  “Thirteen. You?”

  “Same. When’s your birthday?”

  “A few days ago.”

  “What?” she asked, pulling back. “When?”

  “August eleventh.”

  “Huh,” she breathed out, peering out in front of her again.

  “Why?”

  “That’s my birthday too.”

  “No shit?”

  She giggled, “No shit, Noah.”

  “Don’t cuss, Cutie, you’re far too innocent for filthy shit to come out of
that sweet mouth.”

  “You don’t even know me,” she stated, trying to hide another smile.

  “It don’t feel like that, yeah?” She met my stare as my tall frame loomed over her. I couldn’t take my eyes off her face.

  “You sure you’re only thirteen? You look and act a lot older, besides you already have all those tattoos.” She pointed to a few of them on my arm.

  “I get that a lot. Happens when ya havta’ grow up fast I guess.” I looked away for the first time, not wanting her to see the sadness build in my eyes. The dark trying to overtake this new light.

  Her.

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “It does, doesn’t it?”

  It was my turn to narrow my eyes at her, silently asking her to keep going. Feeling like she had more to say but was hesitating.

  “You are trouble,” she coaxed, making me grin. Changing the subject by nodding to something beside her, she ordered, “Now get on my bike, Rebel.”

  I looked in the direction she nodded and cocked my head to the side, blurting, “Fuck no.”

  “What? Why?”

  Our eyes locked again.

  “Skyler, your bike is pink. I’m a guy, we don’t do pink.”

  “Oh my God! Are you serious? You can’t be serious.”

  “Does it look like I’m fuckin’ jokin’?”

  “Noah, I’m five-foot-four and you’re every bit of six feet or more, not to mention you probably weigh twice what I do. You can’t expect me to help you all the way to your house, wherever that is. You tower over me, I won’t be able to help you walk that long. Just get on my bike and I can wheel you home. No one will have to know, it’ll be our little secret, okay?”

  “Fuck. No,” I repeated, slower that time so she could understand because she obviously hadn’t the first time I said it. “Besides, I like your arms around me.” And to prove my point, I pulled her closer.

  She rolled her eyes before sternly glaring up at me. “Cute.”

  “No, you’re cute, Cutie. Thinkin’ I’m gonna get on that. I’ll walk home by my damn self before I get on your pink bike.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. It’s just a color, and you’re with me so if anyone does see us, it’s going to be a dead giveaway you’re on my bike because you’re the dumbass who decided to play chicken with an oncoming train.”

  My patience was wearing thin. “Look, Cutie, I’m gonna spit it out for ya. I only ride things with horsepower or two long legs. So unless I’m ridin’ you, looks like I’ll be staggerin’ home with my pride still intact.”

  “Ugh!” She shoved me off her, not giving a shit about my ribs. I groaned out in pain, my hand instantly applying pressure.

  “You”—she pointed at me, stepping backward towards her bike— “can walk your stubborn, chauvinist ass home by your damn self.” She turned, getting on her bike.

  “Cutie! I was jokin’! How you gonna be so cruel, bustin’ my balls like this!”

  “It wasn’t funny!”

  “I’d want you to ride me anyway!”

  She looked back at me with a hint of mischief in her eyes, trying to pretend like she didn’t like my foul mouth.

  “Come on… ya can’t leave me here. I’m wounded, remember?”

  “Watch me. Have fun staggering home, Rebel.” With that, she started peddling, and I couldn’t help but chuckle, loving that she didn’t let me get away with shit.

  “If I hurt myself, you’re gonna feel really bad!” I hollered out.

  “No, I won’t! I don’t feel bad for stupid!”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “At least tell me what show you’re on!”

  She hit the brakes and stopped, pausing for a minute before peering back at me. Contemplating if she was going to answer. I wasn’t surprised in the least when she responded with, “I’m sure you could figure it out.” Not giving me a chance to reply, she took off again.

  It took me three hours to get home when usually it was a half an hour walk. I had to keep stopping from the crippling pain in my ribs, laughing every time I did. Thinking about her just leaving me there to fend for myself.

  I’ll tell you one thing though, she was right.

  As soon as I got home, I jumped on my computer and found what show she was on. I barely used the Internet, let alone watched TV. I had no fucking clue who she was. So I spent the rest of the day and well into the morning, catching up on every episode I could. Knowing damn well, I couldn’t wait to see her again. My sunshine and happiness.

  More so now…

  Than ever before.

  SIX

  NOAH

  My fourteenth birthday was almost a month ago. I celebrated by waiting for Skyler down by the river for most of the day, thinking maybe she’d finally show up after all this time. Another year had flown by since I last saw her at the train tracks. The day I knocked myself out and unexpectedly woke up to her beautiful face taking care of me. Singing that song that would forever be engrained into my mind, relentlessly playing. Constantly thinking about tomorrow. The next morning, following our first real encounter, I’d woken up with a smile on my face for the first time since Luke died, thinking I would see her again and again, and again.

  I hadn’t.

  It was like she dropped off the face of the earth, and I was starting to think I’d imagined it all. A hallucination my mind created just to fuck with me. If it wasn’t for seeing the episodes of her show on television, I’d think she was an illusion too. But she wasn’t, she was very much real. I could still feel her touch on my scars, smell her intoxicating scent all around me, and see her pouty fucking lips sassing me. I missed her, which was so fucking absurd.

  How did I miss a person I didn’t even know?

  I tried to find out everything I could about her online, wanting to feel close to her in any way I could. She’d been a performer all her life, from commercials to print ads, from productions to big and small roles on television and in movies. She wasn’t a huge celebrity by any means, at least not yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she hit it big. Skyler had a gift, a talent like no one I had ever seen before. The girl could sing and act as if she was born only to do that, like her sole purpose in life was to entertain others. To stand out in a crowded room, to leave people speechless with her voice, to captivate an audience with her natural beauty. The list was endless.

  Above all else, Skyler Bell was meant to shine.

  I read all her interviews in magazines, watched all the shit she ever appeared in, and even looked at every photo I could possibly find of her from the tabloids and red-carpet appearances. I was borderline fucking creepy and obsessed with the girl whose voice and face I thought about every day and dreamt about every night. It was the only time I felt at peace. I’d smile to myself and think about a future with her on a daily basis. She gave me hope that there was more to life than what I had been living for all this time. I wanted to see her, I needed to see her as much as I needed to take my next breath. But she was gone like dust in the wind, taking a piece of my heart I didn’t know I had left to give.

  Leaving me alone with only my memories of her.

  After the first few months of searching for Skyler at the river and coming up empty, I’d started to go there less and less, losing hope that I’d ever see her again. It was just as depressing as it fucking sounded. Believe me, I was living it.

  When our birthdays rolled around, I couldn’t help but go search for her yet again. I hadn’t been back to the river in months, give or take a few. I sat there all afternoon by myself, skipping rocks across the shallow water. Watching the ripples descend as the pebble sank, taking a little piece of my patience with it each time. Waiting for a girl who never showed. Once I realized the river was a lost cause, I decided to make my way back home. Taking the train route just to feel her presence for a few more minutes before I had to let her go. I hadn’t been back since.

  Each step I walked toward my house felt like a step in the wrong direction, like I was being pulled out of the hap
py and back into the reality that was my life. And even though I should’ve known better, I still held onto the hope that I wouldn’t be walking into a vacant house, filled with nothing but empty liquor bottles.

  My momma used to make a big fuss over our birthdays every year. She was always there with a cake and some gifts, waiting to serenade us. It didn’t matter how many times we begged her not to sing, she never listened. Singing “Happy Birthday” at the top of her lungs and loving every second of it. But that was another time, another life. One where I still had two brothers and a mother. Where I still had somewhat of a family.

  Creed was barely around anymore, going on more runs for the club, leaving me behind to take care of what was left of our momma. He was a fucking mess, worse now that his girl was gone. Pops was no help either, he practically moved out, spending most of his time balls-deep in his whore. Not giving a flying fuck about Ma and her mental state. He probably wished she’d just kick the fucking bucket so he’d be free of that burden.

  When I walked into my house, it was just as I expected. She was nowhere to be found, and in her place were empty liquor bottles piled on top of each other and scattered around everywhere. The scent of booze and stale cigarettes assaulted my senses the further in I stepped. Stopping in the middle of the living room, I looked around at the messy space that used to always be clean. The stacks of laundry that hadn’t moved in weeks from the couch, the trash sprawled about. I could still hear my momma’s voice, yelling at me to use a coaster under my drink on the coffee table that was now coated in cigarette ashes and who the fuck knows what else.

  I shook my head, thinking about how my life had come to this.

  Happy birthday to me.

  I spent the next few hours cleaning up, praying maybe it would help her not drink. Out of sight, out of mind. To have her back, even if it was just for a few minutes, would have made my time and effort worth it. I missed the times she was so full of life, dancing around the house, making the best of the shitty hand she was dealt. Most of all, I missed talking to her. I hadn’t had a coherent conversation with her since Luke died over two years ago. She was always drunk, it didn’t matter what time or day it was. My momma was always plastered, shitfaced on the regular.