Your Favourite Crime {Carvelli Series 1}

3

"What?" I ask him

He shakes his head and looks up at me, "You know why you were invited?"

"Maybe," I shrug,

"I like you Adriana. Since the moment you walked into the meeting room last week. You've captivated me and I've never caught feelings for a woman as fast as I've caught feelings for you. We're not teens and I'm not gonna hide it from you, we've built a trust and I trust that nothing will change between us by me telling you this," he tells

"You're right Damien. We're not teens and I'll admit I'm attracted to you too," I say to him

"but?"

"but you're my boss. And you're older. So if something is gonna happen here, we've got to keep it professional. Got it?" I point at him with authority

"Yes, Sergeant," he nods and I roll my eyes. "Can I take you on a date during one of you free days?"

"Sure. But nothing formal. I like fun," I tell

"Good to know," he nods, thinking. He turns back to the game, but this time he stays calm.

His hand sits on the top of the couch and I can't help but grab it, looking at his palms.

"I used to weight-lift in high school and university. That's what most of those trophies and medals are upstairs." he tells

"You still weight-lift?" I question the obvious

"When I'm stressed," he answers

His calluses' are fresh. He has big hands that are rough, his fingers are think. His hand can easily crush mine if he tried.

"Why are you stressed?" I question rubbing his hand

"I was told that a new court date will be set soon. They say the actual day won't be for about a year, but my lawyer says he's sure that I'll loose the kids. Obviously he's trying to prevent that, but apparently their biological mother is getting clean... Also I'm trying to figure out how to go about Ethan and his little weed slip up," He sighs

"Have you figured out where he got it?" I ask

He leans back on the couch and sighs, "It's mine."

"What?!"

"It's mine. I'm an insomniac and stupid sleeping pills don't work so my doctor suggested I try weed. A couple of hits before I go to sleep and I'm out like a light. He must of found it in my bathroom or something. I don't think he knew I use it, but he's a teen, they carry that shit with them and he's possibly curious," he shrugs

"Does that affect anything in court? It shouldn't," I question

"No it doesn't. It's prescribed. Plus It's usually hidden so when the social worker comes for a check up it's no where in sight," he explains

He's tense again and I know this topic is stressful for him.

"I'm here, Damien. You can talk to me whenever," I tell him. His hand clasps mine and he kisses it.

"Thank you, chérie," he smiles softly. (Darling)

"Can you tell me more... about yourself? your family?" I ask

"Always. My mom was a French Canadian and my dad is Italian. They were never compatible, they were married a year before I was born, divorced when I was 2. My mom was a potter and an artist. She came to Toronto after the divorce to pursue her career but it never took off like she thought it would," he starts

his eyebrows are furrowed as he recalls memories.

"I was raised in Regent Park. My mom worked hard day and night to pay rent. My dad only sent money to send me to private school and pay for anything I needed. When I turned 10, I finally went to visit him in Florida... Imagine this. Me, a kid who's from one of the most dangerous hoods back in the day, getting off a plane in hot Miami, getting picked up by a chauffeur and taken to one of the most expensive neighbourhoods of South Miami," he chuckles