PROMISE: A Labor Day Romance Novella

After a chance reunion at a rooftop Labor Day party, a firefighter and his former flame must confront their past fears and insecurities, while risking everything for a future they never saw coming.

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AKIL MITCHELL

Labor Day 2023

You ever have one of those moments where the world slows to a crawl, where the bass of the music pumping around you feels like it's thumping underwater, and you swear everyone around can see your heartbeat trying to break through your chest? That’s where I was—right there on that damn rooftop, standing in the middle of the Labor Day party my boys and I had thrown together. Red Solo Cup in one hand, the last bite of a burger in the other, my eyes locked onto her like she was the last thing worth seeing in the city of Westonberry.

It wasn’t like one of those missions from when I was in the army, crouched in the dirt with my rifle loaded, ready to put a target down. This was a whole different kind of hunt. I wasn’t aiming to take a life; I was trying to get mine back with a woman I’d let slip through my fingers. Blame it on my never-ending shifts at the firehouse or her grinding away at her tech job—one of those apps everyone’s addicted to these days, the kind that keeps you scrolling and swiping so much you forget how to look somebody in the eye and talk to ‘em in real life.

We’d had a couple months worth of dates, and things were good—hell, things were real good—but she was always jetting off somewhere before we could make anything official, and I was always buried under a pile of alarms and smoke. We kept saying we'd catch up, pick up where we left off, but weeks stretched into months, and she ghosted me like a bad memory. And now, here she was, posted up on my rooftop, drinking my drinks, eating my food, laughing with her girls, looking so damn good it hurt to breathe.

Jade. Even her name was sharp and smooth at the same time. She was a dark-skinned dream with curves that could turn a straight road into a rollercoaster. She had this thick, compact frame that could barely be contained, her hair spilling around her shoulders in a braided curly style that made her look like she stepped out of a mural painted by the gods themselves. Gold hoops catching the light, jeans that held on to every dip and curve, a cropped top hugging her in all the right ways, and a pair of fresh dunks on her feet—she was dressed down, but she was shutting the whole damn party down.

Before she showed up, I was making the rounds, playing the host, keeping folks happy, tossing a few flirty smiles at the women who came through. But now? Now, I was a man on a mission. She wasn’t leaving this rooftop until she understood that tonight wasn’t gonna be like the others. Tonight, she was mine.

“Ain’t that Shorty you was talkin’ to a while back?” Shamar’s voice cut through my thoughts as he slid up beside me, a fork in his hand from manning the grill. He had that look on his face—the one that said he already knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it out loud.

“You peeped that too, huh?” I replied, my eyes never leaving Jade. I remembered he’d met her once before, when we ran into him while I was taking her out to that little jazz club downtown.

“That’s wild she’s up in the crib like this,” he said, his brow lifting just enough to show he was impressed.

“She ain’t never been here,” I told him, my voice low, almost like I was sharing a secret with the universe itself. “She don’t even know what she walked into,” I added, chewing the last bite of my burger like it was the final thought I needed to swallow before making my move.

There was a storm brewing inside me—equal parts heat and hunger. And tonight, Jade was about to find out exactly what happens when you stumble into a lion’s den without realizing whose territory you're in.

I set my cup down and made a straight shot for Jade, cutting through the crowd like a heat-seeking missile locked on its target. She was posted up with a group of women, laughing and sipping her drink, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world. I liked seeing her like that—loose, relaxed, enjoying herself.

“Jade,” I called out, my voice carrying over the music as I stepped up in front of her. She damn near jumped when she looked up and saw me bearing down on her, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Akil?” she asked, her voice all honey and smoke, like she was tasting my name on her lips.

“What’s good, stranger?” I leaned against the wall in front of her, playing it cool, flashing a slow grin that I knew always got her.

“Who’s this?” one of her homegirls chimed in, grinning from ear to ear. She was a pretty caramel thing with braids like Jade’s, but my focus was razor-sharp on the woman in front of me.

“I’m Akil,” I said, turning on the charm as I extended my hand. “Welcome to my home, I hope you’re enjoying the party.” She took my hand, shaking it with a smile that told me she was feeling the vibe.

Jade was smiling too, trying to keep it together but giggling like she couldn’t help herself.

“This is your house?” she asked, eyebrows raised, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, that’s right. You just roll up in people’s houses, drinking their drinks and eating their food, not even knowing who’s throwing the party?” I teased, letting the words hang in the air for a beat. “Especially after ghosting them, too?”

“Damn!” one of her friends blurted out, eyes wide, like I’d just spilled the tea all over this rooftop. Jade’s mouth fell open, caught between a laugh and a glare, trying to decide if she wanted to play like she had a little attitude or not.

“I don’t know what y’all got going on here, but this feels like some unfinished business we don’t need to be a part of,” another one of her friends said. I didn’t even bother looking to see who said it—I was locked in on Jade, and she was locked right back on me, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to find the perfect comeback to hit me with.

But I wasn’t giving her any time to get comfortable, not tonight.

“Yeah, we do have some unfinished business,” I announced, my eyes boring down into Jade's. Her whole posture shifted—arms folding tight across her chest, that guarded look slipping over her face like she was bracing for impact.

Jade looked a little unsettled, her usual confidence wobbling just a bit. “It wasn’t like that, Akil,” she muttered, her voice quieter than before.

“Oh yeah? Then what was it like?” I shot back, leaning in just enough to let her know I wasn’t playing. A playful smirk pulled at my lips, but my eyes told a different story—I wanted answers.

“Yeah, Jade, tell us!” one of her girls chimed in, all up in the mix until another friend pulled her away, dragging the rest of the crew with her, leaving just me and Jade standing there. The air between us was thick, a slow burn that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

“I didn’t know this was your place,” she said, softer now, almost like she was trying to explain herself.

I cocked my head, taking her in. “Would you have come if you knew it was?”

“No,” she admitted, not even hesitating.

“Oh, word?” I said, caught off guard by her honesty. Didn’t expect her to be that blunt.

“That came out wrong,” she backpedaled, her eyes darting away for a second.

“Seems like you keep trippin’ over your words tonight, Jade.” I let that hang between us, a challenge in my tone. “What’s up? Why’d you stop responding to me?”

Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw something raw in them—something real. She opened her mouth like she had something to say, then closed it, chewing on whatever words were hanging on the tip of her tongue. I could see the battle she was having, whether to come clean or throw up that wall again. And damn it if I wasn’t ready for whatever came out next, ‘cause I wasn’t letting this night end with more questions than answers.

She shifted her weight, took a breath, and finally let the words spill out. “Look, Akil, I didn’t mean to ghost you. It’s just... things got complicated, alright?”

I stepped closer, closing the gap between us, my voice dropping low so only she could hear. “Complicated how? 'Cause last I checked, things were goin' pretty good.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Good? You mean those few late-night dates between your shifts and my flights? C’mon, you know that wasn’t enough for either of us.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Maybe. But it was somethin'.” I gestured to the party around us, the crowd oblivious to the tension crackling between us like live wires. “Now you just gonna show up at my spot, lookin’ like that, and act like we don’t have history?”

She bit her bottom lip, a nervous habit I remembered from those nights we’d spent together, sharing stories and more in the dim light of whatever bar or jazz club we found ourselves in.

“I didn’t know, alright? I was just here to have a good time with my girls. I didn’t think I’d be facing an interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” I laughed softly, leaning in until our noses were almost touching. “Nah, this ain’t that. This is me wanting to know why you dropped what we were building, Jade. You owe me that much.”

She held my gaze, her eyes narrowing as if weighing whether I was worth the truth or not. Finally, she sighed, a long breath that seemed to carry all the things left unsaid. “Alright. You wanna know the truth, Akil? You scared me.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Scared you? How?”

“You’re... intense. You know that?” She looked down, fidgeting with her drink. “I needed space to figure out what I wanted. And I guess...I just ran.”

I nodded, letting her words sink in. I hadn’t expected that. “I get it. I’m a lot. But that’s cause I was clear about what I wanted, and that’s you, Jade.”

She looked up, her lips parting like she wanted to say something, but I didn’t let her. I stepped in closer, my body brushing against hers, my voice a rough whisper against her ear. “So tell me now—what do you want?”

For a moment, she didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Then, like a dam breaking, she leaned in, her lips a breath away from mine. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but something tells me I shouldn’t run.”

That was all I needed to hear. My hand found her waist, pulling her against me, feeling the warmth of her body through that tight little crop top she wore. Her breath hitched, and I could feel her heart pounding against my chest. I didn’t give her a chance to rethink it; I kissed her, deep and slow, tasting the doubt and the desire all mixed up together. She melted into me, her hands sliding up my arms, nails digging in just enough to let me know she was right there with me.

The world around us faded, the music, the laughter, the clinking of bottles—it all fell away. It was just me and Jade, tangled up in the middle of a rooftop party, the city lights blurring into a hazy backdrop. She pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her eyes searching mine, still unsure but no longer scared.

“What now?” she whispered, her lips brushing against mine.

I grinned, my thumb tracing her jawline. “Now? Now we see if you’re really done running.”

---

JADE ALEXANDER

I didn’t want to be here. It had been three long months since the layoff—three months of sitting in my apartment, sulking on my couch, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to my life unraveling. Who was I without my job? So much of my identity was stitched into the fabric of my career, and now that it was ripped away, I felt naked, exposed, and like I didn’t even know myself anymore.

It didn’t help that despite all the degrees, certificates, and "highly qualified" labels people had slapped on me over the years, my phone had become the fertile ground of rejection emails.

“There’s a Labor Day party happening tonight, and it’s supposed to be a good one. We’re going!” Leena's voice crackled over the phone earlier today while I soaked in the tub, mentally prepping to climb into bed early with some comfort food and a True Crime Netflix show I’d probably seen a dozen times already.

I rolled my eyes so hard I swear I saw the back of my skull. “You sound like we’re still in high school. I’m about to be thirty-eight, Leena. No job, no prospects. Maybe I should focus on fixing that instead of partying.”

There was a pause on the line, the kind that told me she was gearing up for one of her “come to Jesus” moments. “Girl, the fact that you keep obsessing over what’s gone wrong is exactly why nothing's going right. You ain’t living, Jade. You ain’t having fun. You’re holed up in that tiny-ass over priced apartment, hiding like the world gives a damn about Jade the Techie when the real star is Jade, the woman.”

Damn. She always did know how to hit me where it hurt.

“Well, damn…tell me how you really feel,” I shot back with all the sarcasm I could muster.

Leena wasn’t having it. “I’m picking you up in an hour, and your ass better be ready,” she snapped, hanging up before I could get another word in.

I groaned and stared at my closet like it was mocking me. I yanked out a pair of jeans and a crop top, something comfortable and safe because I wasn’t trying to impress anybody tonight. I didn't even want to go. My heart wasn't in it—until I found myself face to face with the man who had faded out of my life.

It wasn't like I ghosted him for real. We were both busy, caught up in our own worlds, and things just faded. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway. Besides, what was the point in letting things get serious? Even if they did, he’d just break my heart eventually. All relationships ended the same way: someone left, and someone got hurt.

Sure, he’d made time for me—more than most guys. Texted me throughout the day, checked in like he actually cared, called late at night just to hear my voice, sent flowers to my hotel rooms when I traveled for work. But I’d convinced myself it wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. Besides, my focus was climbing the corporate ladder, not getting tangled up in some fling that could derail everything I’d worked so hard for.

But seeing him now, with that crooked smile that once made my knees weak, my chest tightened with an emotion I wasn’t ready to name.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice barely rising above the pulsing beat of the music as he guided me through the crowd, his hand wrapped firmly around mine. I tilted my head up to look at him, my heart doing that annoying flutter thing it always did when he was close.

Damn, he was fine—like mocha chocolate sculpted by the gods themselves. Tight curls framed his face, and that neatly trimmed goatee gave him the kind of rugged edge that would make anyone's heart skip a beat. Broad shoulders, arms that looked like they’d been chiseled in a gym, and that chest... yeah, very much the firefighter-on-a-calendar type. He was dressed in a matching green linen short set that clung to all the right places, and some Gucci slides that somehow looked both casual and expensive.

“For some privacy,” he replied, his deep voice rolling over me like thunder. “So we don’t have to be screaming over this damn music.”

He helped me down a set of narrow stairs, his grip on my hand steady, reassuring. We slipped through the back door of the house and into the kitchen, where the air was thick with the mouthwatering scent of jerk chicken and barbecue ribs. Platters of food were lined up on the counters, ready to be carried up to the rooftop, but the house was empty. Everyone was on the roof.

He kept hold of my hand, his touch firm yet gentle, as he led me through a dimly lit hallway to what I guessed was the primary bedroom. My pulse quickened when he closed the door behind us and turned the lock with a soft click that seemed to echo in the quiet room. The sounds of the party faded, replaced by the distant hum of the city outside.

“Not trying to kidnap you or anything,” he said with a half-smile, his deep voice soft but carrying that familiar rumble. “But with all these people coming in and out of my house, I don’t want anyone wandering into my room while we’re trying to talk.”

I nodded, my eyes darting around the room—large, with a king-sized bed, dark wood furniture, and a low glow from a single lamp in the corner. It felt like him—warm, masculine, with just enough chaos to make it interesting. And right now, the only thing more interesting than this room was the man standing in front of me, still holding my hand like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“We have privacy… what did you want to talk about?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, even though my heart was racing like it was trying to win a marathon.

He leaned back against the door, crossing his arms over that solid chest of his, eyes never leaving mine. “What’s up with you, Jade? For real. What’s been going on since the last time I saw you?”

“Not much,” I lied, my voice sounding steadier than I felt. The truth was, my whole damn world had been flipped upside down since the last time we were face to face like this. My job was gone, and my confidence had disappeared right along with it. But here I was, playing it cool, pretending like everything was just peachy when inside, I felt like I was standing on shaky ground. “You?”

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over that broad chest, his eyes never leaving mine. “Still a fireman, still tryna be your man…”

“Ooop!” The sound slipped out of me before I could catch it, a combo of surprise and disbelief. My eyes widened, and I felt a rush of heat crawl up my neck. I wasn’t prepared for that level of honesty, for how straightforward he was being.

Akil’s lips curled into a slow, knowing grin, clearly enjoying the way he’d caught me off guard. “What?,” he asked, his voice dropping lower, more serious. “I’ve been wanting you, Jade. You know that.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say. My mind was scrambling to keep up with my racing heart. “I mean, I didn’t know you were trying to be that bold tonight,” I managed to say, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Baby, life’s too short to be anything but bold.”

I laughed, a nervous kind of laugh that felt like it was pulled from deep inside. “Okay, fireman. I see you.”

He cocked his head slightly, studying me like he could see straight through my bullshit. “You seeing somebody?” His voice was casual, but his eyes sharpened, waiting for a tell.

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. The kind of laugh that comes from somewhere deep, half bitter, half amused. Seeing somebody? I hadn’t looked at a man sideways since him, not even in the five months we’d drifted apart. Hell, work had been my man, and now that was gone too.

“No,” I chuckled, the sound slipping out before I could stop it.

A slow, knowing grin spread across his face, and he took a step closer.

“Good,” he said, voice dropping low, almost a growl. “So when I eat your pussy from the back tonight, until you’re coming down my throat, I won’t have some fool tryna see about you that I’ll have to set straight, right?”

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt my knees go weak. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry as his words hung heavy in the air between us, daring me to back down, daring me to say something to break this tension that was thick enough to cut.

I tried to find my voice, but it felt like it had packed up and left the room. His eyes were on me, dark and intense, waiting. I could feel the heat rising from where his gaze lingered, and I shifted on my feet, unsure if I was trying to get closer to him or back away.

“Shit,” I finally managed to say, but the words came out softer than I intended, almost a whisper.

He didn’t move, but his grin widened, showing just a hint of teeth. “I’m not playing anymore games with you, Jade.”

The air between us buzzed with an unspoken tension, caution and simmering desire that had been building for too long. We’d had late-night dates where conversation flowed and our touches lingered, flirty messages that made me blush, and texts that hinted at what we both wanted but never crossed the line. Despite the pull between us, Akil had been patient—more than any man I’d known. He seemed to understand I needed time, his dark, hungry gaze often lingering, his touch sending shivers through me. But he never pushed, like he was waiting for the moment I’d finally be ready to let my guard down and surrender to what was inevitable between us.

And now, with the space between us closing, his presence pulling me in like a magnet, I felt that patience running out—along with my own.

“You say that but, you never came and got me,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. But instead of backing down, he took another step forward, closing the distance between us.

“I just let you do your thing, chase your dreams, climb that ladder. But I never stopped thinking about you, Jade. And I knew when the time was ready, you’d come back to me.” His voice was low, a rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “I’m still here. And I know you still want this.”

His words sent a rush of heat through me, and I felt my defenses cracking, crumbling like an old wall that couldn’t hold back the flood anymore. “And what if I’m not that same woman you knew? What if I want different things now?”

“Then tell me what you want,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that felt like it could burn. “Right now. In this room. With me.”

I took a slow step toward him, closing the gap between us until I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, his scent—clean, masculine, like cedarwood and something else I couldn’t name—filling my senses. I tilted my head up, my lips just inches from his ear.

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and in a swift motion, his lips crashed into mine, hungry, desperate, like he’d been starving for this moment. His hands gripped my ass, pulling me flush against him, and I could feel every hard muscle, every heartbeat that pounded against mine.

And just like that, the floodgates opened, and there was no more holding back.

---

AKIL MITCHELL

“Tell me you want me as bad as I want you, Jade,” I growled, my voice low and thick as I held her chin between my fingers. My lips trailed from her mouth to her cheeks, then down to her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. She smelled like jasmine and something sweet, like danger wrapped in desire.

“Akil…” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, her body trembling against mine.

“Tell me,” I demanded, my words more than just a request—they were a command.

“I want you,” she moaned, her head falling back, giving me more of that soft, chocolate skin to kiss. I took my time, letting my mouth linger on the front of her neck, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse under my lips.

But I could feel it—something heavy pressing down on her.

“You’re stressed about something... hiding something from me,” I murmured against her skin, kissing my way down to her shoulders, feeling the tension knotting beneath her surface. My lips moved with purpose, trying to coax the truth out of her as much as I was trying to make her melt.

She hesitated, her breath coming out in shallow gasps. “I... I lost my job,” she whimpered, her voice breaking like a thin sheet of glass. My hand slid up to her throat, not squeezing, just holding, making her feel the weight of me there.

I froze, pulling back to look at her, my eyes searching hers. Those beautiful, defiant eyes were clouded with something I hadn’t seen in them before—shame. She’d always worn her ambition like armor, always so damn proud of what she’d built, even when she put it ahead of me. Seeing her like this, raw and stripped bare of her usual confidence, hit me hard.

“Jade…” I murmured, my grip on her throat softening, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw. I could see how much it hurt her, how deep that cut went. This wasn’t just about losing a paycheck; it was like a piece of her had been ripped away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her eyes welled up, and she bit her lip, trying to keep it together. “Because... it felt like failing. And you... you wouldn’t understand. You’re always so damn sure of yourself, so certain.”

“Maybe.” I nodded slowly, my thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down her cheek. “But I know what it’s like to lose somethin' that feels like it’s part of who you are.” I leaned in, pressing my forehead against hers, my breath mingling with hers.

“Jade,” I said, my hand sliding under her chin, tilting her face back up to mine. I wanted her to see that I meant every word. “At the core of all this—whatever this is—we were building a friendship, if nothing else. You don’t have to be embarrassed around me. We’ve talked about damn near everything, shared parts of ourselves most people never see. You don’t have to front for me, not now, not ever. You’re not ruining anything by being real with me. If shit sucks, just say that.”

She let out a shaky breath, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “It fucking sucks,” she finally said, her voice trembling but strong enough to cut through the noise in my head.

“Damn right it does,” I replied, pulling her closer until our foreheads touched, grounding her in the moment. “But it doesn’t have to suck alone.”

She gave a small nod, and I could feel her letting go, just a little. Her walls weren’t down, not yet, but there were cracks in the armor, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t the one to help her break through.

“I don’t know how to let someone in like this,” she whispered, her voice raw.

“You don’t have to know how,” I murmured, brushing my lips against her temple. “Just gotta let it happen.”

For a second, we stood there in the dim light of my bedroom, the heavy bass from the rooftop party above us thumping through the floor like a distant heartbeat. The music and laughter were muffled, like they were coming from another world, one we didn’t care to be a part of right now. Her body was warm against mine, her breath falling in slow, measured waves, like she was trying to steady herself, trying to convince herself that letting me in wasn’t a mistake.

“Use me to take the pain away, Jade,” I murmured, guiding her hand to the bulge growing in my jeans, feeling her fingers curl around me, hesitant but curious. “Let me make you feel good, huh? At least for tonight?” I asked, my voice low and rough, as I cupped her face, planting soft, tender kisses along her cheeks, down to the corner of her lips. “You trust me to help you do that?”

Her eyes fluttered closed, the tension in her shoulders easing bit by bit. She needed this—needed to let go, to feel something other than the weight she’d been carrying. And there wasn’t a damn thing I wanted more than to be the one to help her find that release.

“I trust you,” she whispered, her voice so soft it barely made it past her lips, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip like she was holding on to her last bit of control.

I smiled, a slow, hungry grin, and walked her over to the dresser, positioning her in front of the mirror. I stood behind her, my hands firm on her hips as we both stared into our reflections. The room was dim, shadows dancing around us, but the glow from the street lamps outside sliced through the blinds just enough for us to see each other, see the need building in her eyes.