Nellie and the Boy Next Door

Author's Note:

This is a stand-alone story that is part of a larger series about the titular character, Nellie. Each story that follows can be read on its own or together, in any particular order, though they will be posted in chronological order. The stories may fall under different categories, but all will tell tales of Nellie's various adventures.

In this adventure, Nellie reminisces about losing her virginity and the situations that led to her becoming the promiscuous, lovable character she is. This story follows the events of Nellie & Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Special thank you to Bebop3, norafares, and OneAuthor for their feedback and editing.

**

"Eleanor, there you are!"

"Dad, please. It's Nellie."

"Nellie sounds so juvenile, honey. You're a little old for it."

"It's Nellie."

His eyes flashed, annoyance followed by condescending humour. "Oh, all right, Nellie. Welcome home, babygirl."

I tried not to shudder as my dad hugged me, listlessly hugging him back as my bag fell to the floor with a clunk.

"Nellie, I want you to meet my girlfriend."

Her name might have been Ashley or Ashleigh or Brayleigh or Kaylee. It didn't matter. She was just like all the other new girlfriends my dad had in that she was blonde, slim, and only a few years older than I was. I nodded politely at her before forcing a smile.

"I'm a bit tired from the drive, Dad. Mind if I go settle in?"

"Not a chance," he said. "Pierre! Take Nell's bag up to her room, please. We'll have a drink before dinner."

Wearily, I followed him and Ash-Bray-Kay-lee-leigh to the kitchen.

My mom had tried to get me out of this kind of life. I hadn't understood why she'd left my dad when I was a child, thinking it was crazy for her to go from living in a multi-million dollar house to renting a small apartment where she had to sleep in the living room so I had a bedroom. Whatever lessons she tried to impart on me failed. I had gone behind her back to maintain a relationship with my father after I turned 18 and wasn't obligated by a court order to spend time at his house. It was only after he started expecting a perfect, obedient daughter in return for supporting me that I realized why my mom had left when she did.

Dad paid for everything. My tuition, the nice apartment, all my bills. I never told Mom where the money came from. She thought my tuition was paid by a mix of scholarships and loans, and that I worked as a server to make enough money to live on. I never told her that I'd barely worked a day after starting college, and she never asked why I seemed to have no issue booking time off work to do the things I wanted to do.

Accepting that money from my father came with a price: putting up with him.

There was a reason the new model of girlfriend never progressed to being his wife. They could have called him a cure for gold-diggers: the man who made women realize that money wasn't everything. Yet they kept flocking to him, younger and younger each time, each one determined to be the next Mrs. Maximillian Belanger until they actually tried it and realized no amount of money in the world was worth marrying my father.

Ash-Bray-Kay-lee-leigh obediently procured a jug of sangria from the refrigerator, pouring glasses for the three of us as we settled around the table. I glanced out the doors to the patio.

"Nice day. We could sit out back."

"Ah, too much distraction there," said Dad. "Tell me about your classes. Going well?"

"Yes, very well."

"And you're sure you don't want to switch to law, hmm? Something a little less gritty?"

"I want to be an investigator."

"Hmph." Dad sipped his sangria, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me. "Well, there's still time to change your mind."

"I won't."

"Yes, but I might."

The threat was thinly veiled and I tried to smile, but succeeded only in clenching my teeth together.

"So Nellie," said Ash-Bray-Kay-lee-leigh. "I was hoping you and I could have a little girl talk. Maybe we could go shopping together this weekend?"

"I'm not calling you Mom," I said disinterestedly.

She gasped. "Of course not! I'm not old enough to be your mom. I just thought—"

"Yeah, no, I'm good." I downed the rest of the sangria.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd be kind to Kimberlee," my dad said coldly.

Kimberlee, that was it. "Sorry."

Dad smiled at my obedient apology. "Good. Well, if you won't go shopping, why don't I leave you two girls to get to know each other? I've got some business to attend to."

I tried to figure out whether Kimberlee would be the type to drop her charade as soon as Dad left and warn me not to get in her way, or the type to keep up the obedient Stepford wife act while trying to suss out what kind of person I was. I hoped it was the former, but unfortunately, it ended up being the latter.

"So, girl-to-girl," she said, pouring more sangria for me. "Tell me about you, Nellie. I've heard so many good things from your dad."

"No you haven't," I scoffed.

"I have! He's so proud of you."

"Mmm."

"How's college life really going?"

"Good."

"Just good?"

"Yep."

"Making lots of friends? Good memories?"

"Yep."

She grinned conspiratorially. "Lots of boyfriends?"

Just what I hoped for. The perfect topic to freak her out on.

"A few."

Kimberlee leaned forward. "Oh? Any of them special?"

I pretended to think. "Well, let's see. There's Jake, who I fucked in a backyard and had a threesome with. Ended things there when he started seeing the other girl from the threesome, though. Then I met these two cops, Shaun and Darryl. They were pretty fine. Fucked both of them at the same time, but haven't heard from them since which is just... I mean, whatever, but I wouldn't have said no to a repeat, you know what I mean? Oh, and then I just broke the heart of this super sweet nerd named Brandon."

I felt a twang of guilt bringing up Brandon, remembering the look on his face as I tried to explain that it truly, truly wasn't him, it was me.

"That was really shitty of me. But he wanted a relationship and I just want to fuck people, which is how we met, actually! It's funny, I kind of ended up having sex with his friend in front of him, but that was only after going down on Brandon in the closet. Oh, because we were playing Truth or Dare. Not because I have a particular fondness for closets."

Kimberlee stared at me, trying not to show her shock. I finished the rest of the sangria in my glass and stood up.

"So yeah, I guess no one really special. Anyway, good talk, Ashley."

"Kimberlee."

"Sorry, Ashley must have been the last one."

She sat at the table, mouth agape as I stalked out of the kitchen and into the backyard.

Water shimmered in the pool, glinting in the late spring sun and sparkling as I displaced it with my feet. It was hot, almost summer-like, and the pool water felt nice against my skin. The backyard was empty, a yard too small for a house too large for two people. Dad hadn't had any other kids, and he didn't marry again after my mother had left. Instead, he filled his house with women who all stayed the same age as he grew older and older.

I didn't know why he insisted I visit. Maybe it was because I was the only kid he had. I wasn't especially kind to any of his girlfriends, and it wasn't a secret that I was miserable every time I was there. Still, he expected a visit at the end of each semester, and at least two or three times over the summer.

My feet glided through the water as I dangled them in, sitting on the edge of the pool. Mom thought I was working and couldn't go home to see her that weekend. I hated lying to her, but not as much as I hated imagining what her reaction would be like if she found out I'd not only maintained a relationship with my father, but was actively using his money.

"Ohmigod. Nellie, is that you?"

Dad's McMansion had a tall fence on either side, but the Marchand's deck overlooked the yard. I glanced up to see Anne-Marie sunning herself on a lounger, large sunglasses pushed up on her forehead as she scrambled to the rail.

Anne-Marie Marchand had been my best friend growing up and one of the reasons I had been so devastated when my mom and I moved away. We were the same age and had spent every waking moment together as children, and as many moments as we could together when I was back to visit my dad.

I grinned in spite of my melancholy mood. "Annie! Hey!"

"Ohmigod. I'm coming over. Stay right there."

Moments later, she burst through the gate to my dad's backyard, still in her bikini. Squealing, she rushed over to me as I stood, enveloping me in a strong hug.

"It's been too long! How are you, cherie?" She stuck a toe into the pool. "Can we swim?"

I ran inside to change into a bathing suit, passing a shocked-looking Ash—I mean, Kimberlee—on the way. On my way back, I grabbed the rest of the sangria she'd made and a couple of glasses.

It was like being silly, carefree teenagers again. Anne-Marie and I jumped in the pool, laughing as we drank sangria and caught up.

"You'll never believe who built a house up the hill," she said.

"Who?"

"Theo Barker. The singer."

"No shit?" I asked. "He moved here?"

"Uh huh. I've seen him with his wife a couple times." Anne-Marie sipped her sangria. "She's super-hot, of course."

"Is it a nice house?"

"Looks like. Very trendy. Surprising, after having seen the two of them. She is very business-like, and he looks like a homeless frat boy."

"Hmm. Well, as long as they're happy."

Anne-Marie splashed some water at me. "Any cute boys to tell me about in your life?"

I laughed and shook my head.

"Girls?"

"Nah."

"Sexy professors? Anything?"

"Nope, nothing."

Anne-Marie sighed. "I would have thought by now you'd be living it up, having to fight guys off. Are you still so shy?"

I couldn't tell her the truth.

I was about to respond when the patio door at Anne-Marie's house opened and a man poked his head out.

"Anne-Marie?"

"Over here!" she called, waving her hand. "Jean-Paul, look who's home!"

My mouth went dry as Anne-Marie's older brother stepped onto the balcony.

"Nellie!"

"Hi, J.P."

I hadn't seen him in three years, but he was as gorgeous as ever. All angles and muscles and tanned skin. The sun seemed to absorb into him, an aura of warmth surrounding him as he flashed perfectly white teeth towards me.

"Long time, no see!" he said. "How's college?"

"Great," I said, trying not to choke on the dryness in my throat. I sipped my sangria. "How's... whatever you're up to these days?"

He laughed lightly. "Good. I just started as a junior associate at Dad's firm. Finally moving out, probably in the fall. It's going well." He drummed his fingers on the rail. "Anne-Marie, Mom said to tell you we are going to dinner with the Thibaults. You may want to get ready. Good to see you, Nellie."

I watched as he went back inside. Anne-Marie giggled.

"You still have a crush on my brother, then?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, Nellie." She grinned conspiratorially. "He isn't seeing anyone right now, I can tell you that for certain. But you deserve better. J.P. is a man-whore. Though, if you want me to put in a word—"

"I really don't. Thanks, though."

"Hmm. Maybe Marc-Andre would be better for you. I can ask him?"

"I don't want to sleep with either of your brothers," I laughed.

"Well, Marc-Andre is 18 now, so if you do..."

"Thanks, but I'm good."

She left shortly thereafter, promising to meet for lunch while I was there so we could continue to catch up. I left the pool behind, cleaning up the glasses and the pitcher of sangria as I dripped water all over the kitchen, then went up to the room my dad kept for me.

It faced the front street and I looked out before changing. J.P. was in the front yard, talking to his younger brother as they waited for Anne-Marie. It would certainly be a while before she was ready, but they seemed content to lean lazily against the BMW in the driveway.

Staring at J.P. brought back far too many memories.

I could never tell Anne-Marie about the men and women I slept with. Not without having to admit what I had done with her brother. What he put into motion for me.

It would surprise most people to know that 18-year old Nellie was shy and nervous around boys. It would probably surprise most of them to know that 18-year old Nellie was also a virgin.

I know. It's hard to imagine the girl who gets double-teamed by a couple of cops she just met or fucks a guy in front of her friends was ever anything but a ho, but we all have to start somewhere.

It was the summer after I had graduated high school. I was staying with my dad for a few weeks, though I had told my mom I was travelling with friends. He had just paid my first year's tuition and rent, and slipped a healthy amount of money into an account for me to use as I pleased.

His girlfriend at the time was named Brayleigh and she was a jealous, paranoid, lovesick bitch who hated me. It worked out all right: her jealousy kept Dad busy since she was constantly whining for him to take her out, leaving me to my own devices at the house.

I spent most of my time with Anne-Marie, who was getting ready to go to college as well. J.P. was home from law school for the summer, and I spent day after day mooning over him as Anne-Marie and I swam in the pool.

"You should marry him," she said to me on the last Saturday I was staying with my dad.

"What? Who?"

"Jean-Paul. You like him," she teased.

"I don't," I replied, blushing furiously. "Besides, he's your brother. That's weird."

"Ah, if you marry him, we can be real sisters, cherie," she said. "I don't mind. You should tell him you have a crush on him."

"No way," I said. "And I don't have a crush on J.P.!"

"Sure, and the sky isn't blue, and this pool isn't filled with water." She giggled and splashed me. "Your face is so red. You must need more sunscreen."

"Oh, shut up," I muttered, diving under the water to get away from her.

"I'm sorry, cherie," she said when I surfaced. "I was just teasing."

"I know."

"Want to go out tonight? Hit the bar, maybe find someone to take your mind off my brother?"

I turned onto my back and kicked my legs, sending a torrent of water cascading over Anne-Marie.

"You bitch!" she shrieked, laughing as she swam away. "My hair!"

Going out that night did sound fun, though, so we towelled off a short time later, intending to go for dinner and then bar-hop for the rest of the night. I stepped into my house quickly to grab an outfit and my makeup. Anne-Marie's parents weren't home, so we figured we could pre-drink and have some fun at her place first.

"Eleanor, there you are." Brayleigh was sitting in the kitchen, her tone sarcastic as I let myself in the back door.

"I'm just getting some clothes," I muttered. "And please call me Nellie."

"Hmph." She rolled her eyes. "Well, we are having some guests over tonight. I would prefer if you found somewhere else to be, Eleanor."

"Don't even worry about it. I'm going out with Anne-Marie."

"Perhaps you can stay there."

"Here's hoping."

I gathered my clothes and makeup quickly, not bothering to change out of my bathing suit before heading back over to Anne-Marie's. She was on the phone when I let myself into her room, a towel snug around her body and a hair dryer in one hand.

"She's here now, so I don't want to hear any more of it, Remy. I am going out with Nellie tonight. Don't come over."

I rolled my eyes. Remy was Anne-Marie's boyfriend and I had no idea what she saw in him. He was whiny and possessive, always trying to control Anne-Marie and who she saw, what she did. Anne-Marie wasn't the type to be controlled, so they often fought.

"Why are you still with him?" I asked when she hung up on him.

"Oh, you know," she said, giggling. "We fight but it's all in fun."

"It doesn't sound very fun."

"Well, the fighting, no. Afterward, though..."

I stared at her blankly. Anne-Marie laughed and threw a hairbrush toward me.

"The bedroom, Nellie."

"Oh." I blushed as she dropped her towel and began dressing.

"You'll understand one day," she said, shimmying into a tight dress that stopped mid-thigh. "You should make that your goal for college. Fuck the first boy you can find, get that cherry popped so you can get over it and see how good it is."

"I don't want to just fuck any guy that walks across my path," I muttered. "I want to like him."

"You can like him. You don't have to love him."

"It's just, the first time should be special."

"Trust me, it's not the big deal you think it is."

I used her shower so I could clean the scent of chlorine off my skin and hair. Once I was done, I wrapped a towel around myself and popped my head out of the bathroom.

"Can I use your hair dryer?"

Anne-Marie whirled around and it was only then that I saw Remy standing in front of her, his face red as he attempted to surreptitiously shield the very obvious bulge in the front of his pants. Anne-Marie's dress was pushed up almost completely to her crotch and she tugged it down, laughing.

"Oops, sorry Nellie!" she gasped. "Um, would you... could you give me and Remy a few minutes to finish our discussion?"

"Jesus Christ, Anne-Marie," I said, looking away as I turned red.

I grabbed my makeup bag, plucked her hairdryer from her hands, and scurried out of her bedroom.

Once in the hallway, I heard Anne-Marie giggle again. It quickly turned into a breathy gasp.

"Oh, Remy..."

I rolled my eyes just as I realized I'd left the bag containing my clothing in her room.

Naked except for a towel, I wasn't sure what to do. I could walk back home to get ready on my own, but the idea of seeing Brayleigh again paired with the embarrassment of walking across our front lawns in a towel stopped me. The Marchands had plenty of other bathrooms, but that would require me to walk through the rest of the house in the towel.

Frankly, the entire problem was that I was naked when my supposed best friend had kicked me out of her bedroom to fuck her boyfriend.

And of course, because the situation just had to get worse, that was the moment J.P. entered the hallway to go to his room.

J.P., who was four years older than me, breathtakingly good-looking and, despite my fervent denial, the object of every romantic fantasy I'd had since discovering what romance was.

He did a double-take as he saw me standing in the hallway, clutching a hairdryer to my chest as water dripped from my hair.

"Uh... hey, Nellie," he said.

Every inch of exposed skin I had turned red.

"Hi," I squeaked.

"What're you—"

"Remy's over."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course. Jeez. On the bright side, they'll be done in about five minutes."

"Oh, good."

There was an extended pause.

"Did you want to come get ready in my room?" he asked. "I mean, you don't have to wait out here."

Anne-Marie moaned loudly from inside the bedroom.

"Yes please."

J.P. laughed and tilted his head towards the door next to Anne-Marie's. "Come here, then."

There was no bathroom in J.P.'s bedroom, since Marc-Andre had taken over the room he used to have while J.P. was in law school. It didn't really matter, since I had no clothing, which I admitted to him in embarrassment when he said he'd turn around so I could change.

"Shit, she really left you hanging," he laughed. "Here. Borrow my robe. Better than a towel."

He handed me a robe that was far too large for me and I shrugged it on gratefully. It was far less likely to fall open than a towel. After that, he settled on his bed with a book while I dried my hair a few feet away.

Once done, I looked towards the door.

"Think they're done yet?"

"Probably not," J.P. said. "I was joking about the five minutes."