Chevelle's Story

chapter 11.1

Chevelle spent the morning helping Abel as he cleaned his plants, watered them, and rearranged them around the house so as to expose them to the most possible sunlight. Granted, she definitely spent more time laying around and admiring Abel than she did assisting him, but he insisted that her presence was a comfort all the same.

Chevelle found that after having had sex with him, her nerves around Abel had lessened an incredible amount. The sight of him gently wiping down the leaves with a moist paper towel—his tongue curled over his upper lip, eyes focused, bent over so that she had an expert view of his ass—it definitely still made Chevelle's palm's sweat and her throat dry up a little, but overall, she was still less nervous, and that in and of itself brought her great relief. It made her relaxed enough to just be herself.

When she was laying on the sofa and he walked by her, she didn't have to think for ten minutes about whether or not she should reach up and smack his ass. She just smacked it. And when he turned around and winked at her, she smiled and blew him a kiss.

At some point in the morning, she asked Abel how many plants he had, but even he didn't know, so as Chevelle helped him move the plants around the house, she tried to count them. She was doing a good job of it until she lost count somewhere around forty, getting too distracted by the bulging muscles in Abel's arms as he moved one of the larger plants—a Ficus, I think.

"So...any plans for your big day?" Chevelle asked, leaning against the wall as she watched Abel take one of his hanging plants down from the ceiling.

Abel glanced over at her. "My big day?" he asked.

Chevelle nodded. "Yes, tomorrow. Your birthday," she said.

"Oh, that." Abel chuckled softly and set down the plant he was holding. He walked over to Chevelle and took both of her hands in his, pulling her to him and wrapping her arms around his body. He looked down at her with a smile, his voice low as he said, "Well I was hoping to take you out somewhere nice. Celebrate our big day."

Chevelle felt the foolish grin spreading across her lips and she didn't bother trying to hide it. She really liked the way those words sounded coming from Abel's lips. The idea of them being a unit. It wasn't her big day or his big day; it was their big day. Together.

But as quickly as the smile had formed, it vanished when Chevelle remembered the events of that morning. She let her arms drop from Abel's waist as she sighed.

"What's wrong?" Abel asked with a frown.

"It's nothing, just...my mum wants us to do something for my birthday tomorrow. As a family. So I don't think I'll be able to celebrate with you."

Abel's face fell and Chevelle could see that he was disappointed, even if he didn't let in on it. She felt guilty about not being able to spend the day with him, especially after the impression she had left him with last night. And he had already made plans for their birthday.

Forcing a smile back onto his lips, Abel took Chevelle's hands in his once more. "Hey," he said. "It's okay, don't feel bad."

"Me?" Chevelle asked. "I should be saying that to you. You're the one who made plans and now I'm messing them all up."

Abel shook his head. "You're not messing them up," he promised. "Plans are easy to cancel. Much less easy to follow through on. Besides, my friends wanted to throw a little shindig for me and they were pretty sad when I told them I was spending the day with you instead, so they'll be happy to know it's back on."

Chevelle smiled, leaning forward and resting her head on Abel's chest as she gave him a tight hug. "Okay, good," she said. "I'm happy to hear that. I think you'll have a great time tomorrow."