Say You're Mine: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Southport Love Stories Book 4), Sarah Brooks [urban books to read .txt] 📗

Say You’re Mine

Sarah J. Brooks

Copyright and Disclaimer

Copyright © 2021 by Sarah J. Brooks

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright and Disclaimer

Special Invitation

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Preview: “Say You’ll Stay”

More books by Sarah

About the Author

Prologue

Robert

Eight years ago

I was in a rush. I was always in a rush. I lived my life scrambling from one thing to the next. I was in my second year of college at one of the best undergraduate programs in the country and I was top of my class. I was pre-law and planned to go to law school when I graduated in two years. I was nineteen years old and knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life. I had it all mapped out.

I was smart. I was capable. I had a bright future ahead of me.

And I was going to drown if I wasn’t careful.

I checked the time. I was already running late. That wouldn’t do. Robert Jenkins didn’t do “late.” I grabbed my duffle bag with my work ‘uniform’ and tried to find my keys somewhere in the mess that I called a dorm. I had been lucky to secure campus accommodation, otherwise, I’d never been able to afford to live in Philadelphia.

I was also lucky that I had been able to get enough financial aid to cover my costs. Sure, I’d have a mountain of loans to pay off once I graduated but I’d have to worry about that later.

My phone rang and I thought about not answering it. If I were more than ten minutes late my boss Darla would give my shift to someone else. And I couldn’t afford that. But I also knew it could be my mom. I didn’t want her to worry if she couldn't get hold of me.

“Hello?”

“Rob, you’re home!” It was my mom and she sounded relieved to hear my voice. My guts twisted into uncomfortable knots of concern. I braced myself for whatever storm approached.

“Hey, Ma. I was just heading off to work,” I told her, making it clear I couldn’t talk long. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to my mother. I loved her. More than anything. She had always been my loudest cheerleader. She couldn’t be prouder of her eldest son graduating top of his class from high school and going pre-law at one of the best colleges in the country. She bragged to everyone about her genius kid. She had spent the last five years caring for my dad as he slowly wasted away from bowel cancer. When he died last year I hated how relieved I had been. Mostly that he was no longer in pain, but also so that my mother could have some semblance of her life back.

“I won’t keep you. I just wanted to make sure you’re still able to visit Sam on Saturday. He’s very excited to see you.”

My guts twisted tighter. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. I’ll take the bus to the house and we can head over together.”

“I’m going to make him some of his favorite peanut butter bars. He so loves them.” I could hear the guilt in her voice. I could feel it like a physical thing. My mom had made the painful decision to put my younger brother, Sam, in residential care six months ago. It was a great facility and he was getting the absolute best care. The truth was my mother couldn’t care for Sam on her own. My brother, older by eighteen months, was born with Downs Syndrome. He had never been able to attend a regular school setting, requiring my mother to homeschool him to the best of her ability. Sam was also born with congenital heart disease that required frequent medical attention. Between my father’s cancer and my brother’s increasing demands, my mother was ill-equipped to handle the pressure. My brother’s social worker suggested residential care, which my mother was adamantly against at first. She wouldn’t have it. Her son belonged at home with her. She’d figure it out. But as my brother grew bigger and his fits became increasingly more violent, his needs increased to the point where she had to admit it was more than she could deal with. But there was the problem of cost. She wouldn’t ever allow Sam to live in a less than the amazing center. But my family wasn’t wealthy. My dad and brother’s continuous healthcare costs had eaten up what little money they had.

So that’s where I stepped in. Riding to the rescue like I always did.

My grandmother used to joke that I had been born wearing a superhero cape. From an early age, I took the role of a familial hero seriously. Whether it was sticking up for my brother against the neighborhood bullies or doing the laundry so my mom could get a few hours of sleep while my dad was resting and my brother was watching Aladdin, his favorite movie, for the thousandth time.

It was a hard role to have, but it was one I embraced wholeheartedly. I had no other choice but to be the guy they all counted on. It was ingrained in my DNA.

“I hope you can save some for me. I’ll