AN: Hey guys, I'm back with another chapter. I mentioned it last time, but I'm mentioning it again now. This chapter is rated M--really M. If you've got a problem with things of an explicit sexual nature, you might not want to read the flashback segment.

Also, I am looking for a Beta. I read over my work multiple times and do my best, but there's always gonna be a few mistakes I miss, and you, my wonderful readers always seem to catch them ;) Here's what I'm looking for in a Beta...Someone with very good grammar/spelling and someone who is willing to tell me what they think and guide me but who won't try and dictate the direction of my story. If you think that's you, please feel free to send me a PM. Thanks :)

Happy reading :)

I got to work at 8:40 and made my way through the waiting room. Appointments didn't start for another twenty minutes, so the only person present in the front of the clinic was Gail, the receptionist. I stopped for a few minutes to chat with her, giving her a brief update of my time at school since she'd last seen me at Christmas break. She told me, with the glow of a proud mother, of how her son would be starting college at Penn in the fall. Once our exchange was over, I continued on to the back to change and get ready for work. After I'd donned my scrubs and shoved my jeans and t-shirt into my bag, I left the bathroom and went to hang out in the break room for a few minutes.

"Hey," I greeted a familiar face—well not so much a familiar face, as a familiar head of black hair, since his face was buried in a small, red book. Adam looked up at my greeting. I'd never seen him look so pale, especially considering his Mexican ancestry. In two years I'd be a new graduate as well and I could only imagine how freaked out I'd be to be thrust out on my own for the first time. Still, I couldn't help but poke fun a bit. "Nervous?" I chuckled.

"Nervous? Why would you say that? Just because this is my first day as a doctor, making all my own decisions and lives may hang in the balance? Why would that make me nervous?"

I doubted there would be many 'lives hanging in the balance' on his first day. "You're first appointment is a sneezing kitten. I don't think the Herp is a matter of life and death," I told him. Yes, kittens get herpes too, only in them it's a cold and not a sign of promiscuous sexual relations or shared glassware.

"And after that I have a golden retriever with a mass on his side."

"Probably just a lipoma. You'll aspirate it, see lots of benign fat and tell the owners their dog will live."

"Yes, it's probably a lipoma, but it doesn't have to be. What if it turns outs to be a mast cell tumor and I don't realize until after I poke it and it degrannulates and he has an anaphylactiod reaction because I didn't give him any antihistamines?" Adam held up the book he was reading, pointing frantically at the page in front of him, assumingly where it instructed the use of Benadryl and Pepcid before aspirating or removing a mast cell tumor.

"Okay, calm down," I instructed, taking a seat at the table next to him. "And you should probably get rid of this." I took the cup of coffee away from him. "You seem high strung enough as it is." He let his head collapse on the table in defeat. "You'll be fine. No one here is going to throw you to the wolves on your first day. You know what you need to know for your vaccines, gastroenteritis, and allergies. If you get anything confusing or you have any questions, there are four other doctors who are more than happy to help you out. You're going to be great."

"Thanks, but I don't think a pep talk is going to cut it," he informed me.

"Well, it's going to have to, because it's now officially nine o'clock." I pointed to the clock above our heads. "I'm going to head out and get your appointment into a room, Dr. Flores," I stressed the word 'doctor,' as I got up from the table. After all, Adam was a doctor now, and it was high time he realized it.

I made my way to the reception desk, a bottle of antibiotics in hand. "Here you go, Mrs. Jenkins. Just fill the dropper up to the 1 ml line and give it to Kiki twice a day," I instructed. Mrs. Jenkins and her yorkie were regulars at the clinic.

"Thank you, dear," the old woman smiled politely and took the medication from me.

"Enjoy the rest of your day and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to give us a call." I scratched the dog on the head. "Bye Kiki."

"Good bye, Brooke. If we don't see you again this summer, good luck at school."

"Thank you." I waved goodbye as they walked out of the clinic. Turning around, I went behind the desk and took a seat next to Gail. "They were the last appointment for the morning. You need any help up here?" I asked her.

"You can start pulling files for our afternoon appointments if you've got the time," she suggested, handing me the appointment book.

"Sure." I grabbed the book from her. Each patient got a medical records number and my first job was to look them up on the computer and see if they had been there before. If they had, they already had a chart with a number and I had to pull the file from the large set of shelves over brimming with manila. If they were new to the clinic, I had to assign them a number and make them a chart. I was on chart number fourteen when I heard someone clear their throat behind me.

"Excuse me, but could anyone here tell me how to get to Brooklyn?" the source of the phlegm noise asked.

"Take the subway," I replied, with a chuckle, spinning around in my chair. It was a common exchange between Isaiah and me.

"Isaiah, it's so wonderful to see you again," Gail gushed.

"Hi Gail, it's nice to see you again too. I just stopped bye to see if Kings was up for some lunch." Isaiah was an architect for a firm whose offices were just down the street from the animal hospital. We usually had lunch together a couple of times a week when I was in town.

"I think we could spare her for an hour."

"Are you sure?" I asked, mostly to be polite. I was entitled to a lunch hour after all, but I didn't want to leave if other people were swamped with work I could help them with. "I could finish up with these files first."

"Don't be silly. You've got the rest of your life to work."

"Yeah, Kings, you've got the rest of your life to work. Now's the time for a hot dog and a knish."

"Well, when you put it that way…" I smiled. I really was dying for a real Sabrett's hotdog. "Let me go get my bag." I stood up and headed for the back where I'd left my messenger bag, but just as I was about to step out of the reception area, the door opened and Adam stepped out.

"One morning down, the rest of my life to go," he smirked.

"And you haven't killed anything yet, so yay for you," I smiled back.

"I'm starved. Do you want to grab a bite to eat?" he asked.

"Oh," I threw a glance over my shoulder to Isaiah. "Well, I kind of already have lunch plans," I replied regretfully, turning my gaze back to Adam. I was about to suggest he join us, but I stopped myself when I noted the intense staring going on between the two men. I, being the naïve girl I am, wondered exactly what that was all about, but at least was smart enough to realize that this would be a threesome neither of them would find enjoyable. "Maybe tomorrow," I suggested.

"Yeah, maybe tomorrow," he replied evenly, his gaze not faltering.

"Umm, well, I'm just gonna…" I pointed past him to the back where my bag was.

"Oh, yeah," he stepped aside. I scurried to the back room and grabbed my bag, for some reason feeling quite anxious not to leave Isaiah and Adam alone for too long.

I made my way back up front. Isaiah must have heard me because he noticed my presence without even turning to look at me. He was still locked in some sort of strange staring contest with Adam. "You ready to go?"

"You ready to go?" Isaiah was speaking to me, but he didn't seem to be looking at me. His eyes appeared to be focused a few inches to the right, locked onto those of the man whose lap I was currently sitting on, although it was hard to tell for sure since everything around me was kind of spinny.

"One more game," I begged. Adam and I had been engaged in some serious Photo Hunt-ing. The previous players had vacated the seat about an hour before and I had quickly grabbed the nearest potential accomplice and dragged him to the computer game sitting on the bar.

As luck, or maybe irony—one of those kismet things straight out of the movies—would have it, there was only one open seat. "You wouldn't make a girl stand in these heels, would you?" I gave my best pouty look and pointed at my extremely stylish yet extremely uncomfortable heels.

"Of course not," he assured me, promptly sitting his ass down on the bar stool. I gaped, pointing madly at him and the chair to indicate my extreme displeasure at he unfairness of it all. "Liar," I finally gasped.

"I am no such thing," he replied indignantly. "I saved a seat just for you." He pulled me down into his lap. If it weren't for the copious amounts of alcohol consumed during the night, I would have felt extremely uncomfortable. Have I mentioned that I'm not good with intimacy—of the emotionl or physical kind? As it was, I only felt mildly awkward.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present you Dr. Cheese," I joked as I shifted slightly in his lap.

"Yeah well, I may be a cheesy doctor, but I am a doctor nonetheless. And not just any doctor, a vet. I mean, seriously, two major pluses for me, doctor and animal lover all in one. That's got to offset the cheese factor and lack of game at least a little, right?"

"You keep telling yourself that, Dr. Cheese," I taunted, pinching his cheeks. Thanks to my drunkenness, I had almost forgotten about the awkwardness of our positions. I turned around to face the screen. "OK, let's play." I selected Photo Hunt off of the list of games on the computer. "Regular or dirty?" I asked, referring to the theme of the photos we would be given.

"Dirty?" he gasped in mock horror. "What kind of person do you take me for? I am a gentleman, Brooke Cohen."

"Dirty it is." I smirked as I pointed to our selection on the touch screen. In an instant our first set of photos popped up on the screen.

"What the hell is that?" I felt Adam stiffen beneath me—not like that, get your mind out of the gutter. Besides, what popped up on the screen wasn't likely to be much of a turn-on to Adam.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I put my hand over my chest coyly. "You must have wanted the other dirty version." I smiled innocently—or as innocently as I could pull off considering I was sitting on a guys lap in a seedy New York City bar playing with pictures of scantily clad, male models.

"I'm not touching that screen," he said seriously, brows raised.

"Oh suck it up, buddy," I rolled my eyes at him. I started playing the game, searching out the differences between the photos. True to form, Adam refused to participate, until the game was over at which point he acted quickly, this time selecting the 'naked girl' pictures. This round we both played, since I'm a better sport and all. Each new game we both scrambled to pick the naughty version of our respective choices.

Eight games later found us right back at the beginning of our flashback. "You ready to go?" Isaiah asked. I had spoken to Ben earlier. He had left with Alex already, but before he went, he suggested I go home with Isaiah and crash at their place. It was alright by me; their couch is super comfortable, although Ben insisted I just crash in his bed. Besides, it was a long subway ride back to Queens, especially when you're drunk.

"One more game," I pleaded, batting my eyelashes at him. He could never resist the butterfly eyes.

"It's almost three, the bar is closing soon," he reminded me.

"But one game," I whined. "Surely there's enough time for one game."

"Yeah man, there's enough time for one more game." Adam placed a hand on my shoulder. Isaiah's glare only deepened, if that was possible.

"I'm going to say goodbye to a couple of friends," he informed me. "One more game." He backed away slowly and I stared at him curiously for a few moments before turning my attention back to Photo Hunt. Two games later (What? You actually expected me to listen?), I finally said goodbye to Adam and then Isaiah and I made our way out of the bar.

"Let's take a cab," he suggested. "I'm not really in the mood to deal with the subway."

"Not in the mood for the subway?" I gasped incredulously. "But the subway rocks. We can sing really loudly and annoy the sober people, or we can glare disapprovingly at the drunk people. Maybe someone will be panhandling. I don't know about you, but it's been a good long while since someone tried to panhandle off of me. Ooh, or maybe I'll fall in love. People fall in love on the subway," I informed him. "I just saw this story on The Today Show about this guy who saw a girl on the subway and fell in love with her at first sight, only he didn't get a chance to talk to her so he started this website and put up a picture he drew of her. He totally found her and they fell madly in love."

"Really?" he chuckled, clearly amused at my ramble.

"Well, technically, they ran the story right after they met for the first time, so I don't know for sure that they fell madly in love, but I bet they did." I nodded certainly.

"Well, as tempting as it is to take you on the subway and help you find your very own internet stalker, I think the cab's a better idea."

I must not be very convincing when I'm drunk because the next thing I remember, I was sitting in the back of a cab, staring out the window.

"The buildings are so tall," I pondered out loud. "Have the buildings in New York always been so tall?"

"Uhh, yeah Kings," he laughed at me. "Yeah, I think they have."

"Are they that tall on your side?" I leaned over him to stare out the other window just as the driver pulled to a sudden stop for a J-walker. I lost my balance and fell over on top of Isaiah, hitting my head on the glass in front of me. "Umpf," I grunted.

"Real smooth, Kings," he chuckled, helping me sit back up. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah," I groaned, rubbing my forehead.

"Here, let me see." He pushed my hair off of my face and ran his thumb gently over the area where I'd bumped it. I felt a strange tingling in the pit of my stomach, almost like nerves, which was ridiculous, because being nervous around Isaiah was like being nervous in front of Gundy, the teddy bear I've had since I was three. He was just really close—so close I could feel his whiskey laden breath on my face as he spoke—and you know how I feel about closeness. "It's a bit red, but I don't think it'll bruise." He pulled away and I felt my breathing go back to normal, even though I hadn't ever realized it had been abnormal in the first place.

We finished the ride in relative silence. Isaiah paid the driver when we got to our destination before helping me out of the car and up to the apartment.

As many of you girls might suspect from prior experience, my feet were killing me. I don't know what possessed me when I decided to strap on those really cute peak-toe pumps. Every time I wear them, I wind up sorely regretting it—no pun intended, but a month or so later, the memory of the intense pain fades in my mind and all I can remember is how damn hot they are.

So anyhow, the first thing I did when I walked through the door was strip my feet of their leather prison and fall down on the sofa. "My feet hurt," I whined.

"Well then why did you wear those stupid shoes in the first place?" Isaiah asked as he walked passed me towards the kitchen.

"Because they look hot," I scoffed at his stupid man comment. I heard the refrigerator door open as he shuffled around inside.

"And you were trying to look hot for someone?" he asked as the refrigerator closed again. I wanted to turn around and give him my best glare but I was starting to reach the passing out stage of my drunken stupor and I just didn't have the energy.

"Well, there was that rendez-vous in the bathroom with my secret lover, Jean Claude," I snarked instead.

"Well, I don't know," he defended as he joined me on the couch and handed me a bottle of water he'd pulled from the fridge. "You've been away for a while, things might have changed. I mean, you and that Adam guy looked pretty cozy," he replied coolly.

"What?" I scoffed. "You can't be serious."

"You were sitting in his lap, Kings," he reminded me.

"Yeah, because of the lack of available seating, and the torture devices strapped to my feet."

"Well, he didn't seem to mind having you there," he replied, his voice no longer as cool as it had been a moment ago.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked angrily. I don't even know why it bothered me that Isaiah thought there might be something between Adam and me, but it did. Normally I would have just let it slide, since I enjoy peace and harmony and all that jazz, and I hate drama, but I'm a lot more confrontational when I'm drunk.

"It means he wants you and was probably spending most of the night thinking up ways to get you flat on your back."

"You're so fucking crass, Isaiah. Adam and I are just friends."

"And you're so fucking oblivious," he shot back, standing up from the couch angrily.

"What does it even matter to you?

"Well let's see, whose shoulder were you crying on the last time some asshole broke your heart?"

"I don't cry," I reminded him snidely. And it's true. When I found out Jeremy had been cheating on me, I came over to the boy's apartment, did shots of vodka, ate lots of chocolate, bitched, and plotted revenge scenarios I would never see through, but I never shed a single tear.

"It's a figure of speech, Kings."

"Fine, next time I won't come to you with my problems," I replied defensively.

"That's not what I want and you know it."

"Then what the hell do you want?" I asked, standing up frustratedly to look him in the eye. There was silence for moment as he just stared at me...and then he kissed me. Hmm, that could explain why he didn't want to be the sounding board for my boy troubles.

Despite my better judgment (mostly because I was too drunk to have better judgment) I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. He tasted like Jack and Coke and I opened my mouth to give him entry, wanting to taste more. His tongue slipped between my parted lips and began a slow dance with mine. He backed me up slowly until we were against the wall. His hands were on my hips, pulling me closer, and I arched my back obligingly. My own hands molded themselves to the back of his head, grasping at the short tendrils of his hair.

I felt his fingers slide down over my hips until they reached the skin below the hem of my skirt. Slowly, almost tentatively, they slid back up, disappearing beneath the denim. When I didn't stop him, he became a bit bolder, using his hand to push my leg up towards his waist. Without thinking, my leg wound itself around him, causing my skirt to bunch up around my hips. I felt his arousal pressing against me, and I must admit I was quite impressed, not that I had much to compare it to besides Jeremy.

"God, Zay," I gasped when our lips finally parted, allowing our lungs to refill with air.

"Not God, just one of his prophets," he smirked.

"You're such a loser," I reminded him, but my words probably didn't mean much considering I immediately pulled his head back to mine for some more lip lockage. I should have been freaked out by how intense things were getting, especially since this is me we're talking about and all, but he felt so good, like trying a new flavor of Ben and Jerry's and wondering how you'd ever lived without experiencing the intense conglomeration of tastes.

There were too many clothes. My arms unwrapped themselves from around his neck and slid down to his chest. I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders and he released his grip on me just long enough to let it slip off of him. "We shouldn't be doing this," he whispered between kisses, but made no moves to stop.

"It's very, very wrong." My hands slipped under the fabric of his t-shirt to paw at the sweaty skin on his back.

"There's Ben for starters." He ran his hands up my arms to my shoulders.

"He wouldn't like it," I agreed.

"It'll change everything," he added another reason. His digits were inching slowly around my neck.

"Everything," I whispered.

"We should stop." He was fingering the tie of my halter top now.

"Then stop." Instead he grabbed the loose ends of the strings and undid the bow that held my shirt up so that the top of it fell down revealing my black strapless bra. I smiled, pushing my hands further up his back and pulling his t-shirt with them until it slipped over his head and fell to the ground.

In an instant, his hand was on the back of my leg—the one that was still supporting me, and he hoisted me up so that I was fully wrapped around him. He backed us away from the wall and stumbled into his bedroom where he laid me down on the bed and climbed on top of me. He hovered over me for a few moments and for the first time since this had started, I felt that tiny hint of nerves creeping its way in. Isaiah must have noticed; he could always read my emotions, no matter how tightly concealed I kept them. He leaned down to kiss me again and every feeling except that of his lips on mine, was lost from my mind.

A bit of gentle pressure pushing up on my sides, instructed me to lift my back. I arched so his hand could get underneath me and undo the snaps of my bra. He lifted it off of me and the black cotton was immediately replaced by his hands. I always had a suspicion that Isaiah was a breast man, and it turned out I was right. He gave them both a little squeeze then flicked his thumbs over my nipples. I sucked in air and arched my back. His hands relocated to my hips to hold me down. He trailed open mouth kisses down my neck, over my collar bone to my cleavage and he began to worship my mounds with his mouth. I groaned appreciatively. He sucked and laved at my nipples. My hands relocated to his head, pressing his mouth further onto me. He nipped lightly and I hissed as his tongue soothed the sting he had created.

His hands began fiddling with the fly of my skirt, and only once it was completely undone did his lips part from my breast. He tugged the skirt down over my hips and off of my legs. My shirt was still bunched around my waist and he removed that as well. His palms ran up along my legs pushing them apart slightly. I steepled my knees to give him better access as he continued up my inner thighs. His fingers toyed with the edges of my panties for a moment but a second later he pulled back as though I'd suddenly started sending out electrical shocks.

"What the hell is that?" he growled.

"What?" I asked, slightly disgruntled by the loss of contact. I lifted myself up on my forearms and looked down at him.

"That!" he pointed at me and then moved his hand to the waist band of my underwear where a sliver of blue skin peaked out. He pulled the lace down a bit to reveal the offending object.

"My sign." I shrugged. Just below my hip bone were the two wavy lines that symbolized the water bearer.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo."

"There's lots you don't know about me, Zay," I replied coyly; which was true, there was lots he didn't know about me, but he still knew so much more than pretty much any other person alive.

He grimaced, apparently not happy about my keeping secrets from him. "How long has that been there?"

"Two years," I shrugged. "I got it right before I graduated undergrad."

"Well were you safe? Did you check this place out before you went and had some random person stick you with needles?"

"Geez, Zay, you really know how to kill a mood. No wonder you can never keep a girl around. I'm not going to give you hepatitis, if that's what you're worried about."

"Well excuse me for being concerned," he bit back.

"I did my homework," I sighed. "Don't worry."

He bit his lip hesitantly. "It is kind of sexy." He smiled up at me, tugging my panties down off my hips to get a better look. The tips of his fingers brushed over it lightly, and my head fell back to the pillow. He bent down to kiss the colorful spot and I hummed gratefully as his fingers gently caressed the folds between my legs. The mood was definitely back.

His thumb pressed against my nub as his tongue traced the outline of my tattoo. One finger slid inside of me, then another. I moaned, and bucked my hips, drawing him deeper. He withdrew his digits and I whimpered slightly, but the whimper was quickly replaced by an expletive as I felt the warmth of his tongue, no longer mapping out my tattoo, move over my slit. "Fuck." He parted my folds and dipped his tongue in deeper, swirling it around to touch every inch of me. He continued to lick and suck, making me whimper, moan or curse with each sensation. Before I knew it, I was moaning his name in ecstasy.

He crawled back up over my body until we were eye to eye. His hands automatically returned to my boobs, caressing them gently. "I always knew you were a screamer." He smirked at me.

"Isaiah…" I raised my brows at him.


I bent my knee, rubbing it against his rock hard erection and smiled.

"Right," he grunted. "About that…" He quickly rid himself of his pants, then leaned over to open the top dresser draw and pulled out a condom. As he retracted his hand, I used the momentum to spin us around so I was on top. I grabbed the condom from his hand.

"I gotta say," he remarked emphatically, putting his hands on my hips. "I like this side of you, Kings." He smirked up at me.

I ripped open the foil packaging and bent down to give him a kiss. My hand slid between us to roll the latex over him. "This side of you isn't too shabby either." I smirked back. I moved my hand away and lowered myself onto him, feeling the stretch between my legs more potently than usual thanks to months of celibacy. Within a few moments, I had adjusted to him being inside of me and I began to rock slowly back and forth.

"Fuck," he grunted. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment but then they reopened, watching me intently as I moved above him. He moved his hips in tandem with mine, thrusting up to meet each of my motions. His breathing became more and more erratic, occasional words, phrases, or just unintelligible grunts escaping his lips. I felt the pressure building below and I knew he was struggling to hold back, waiting for me. I picked up the pace and a few thrusts later I was spiraling over the edge and taking him with me.


"Brooke?" I shook myself out of my daze to find myself back in the animal hospital, standing in front of Isaiah. "Earth to Kings." He waved his hand in front of me.

"Sorry," I replied hoarsely. Crap! Why couldn't I have just continued on in my blackout induced ignorance? It looks like things just went and got a whole lot more awkward.

So once again, thanks for all the feedback you guys have given me so far. Much thanks to those of you who reviewed the last chapter...E, Empress of La la la Land, alittlebitobsessive, IxDontxLikexYourxGirlfriend, katherine haynes, SuperCUTEJensen, dragonflyace, Nerdette, and Oooh.Look.A Cat. You guys rock my socks.

For all you lovely readers out there, I've got a few questions for you about the story...

1) What do you think of the characters so far? Am I doing a good job of developing their individual personalities? Do they speak like actual people speak? Do they seem relatable?

2) Any theories on what happened when Brooke was 12.

3) What's up with Ben?

4) How's the narrative? Do I describe the scenes well enough? Can you picture what's happening? Do I move to fast? Too slow?

5) Despite the fact that this story has the whole "in love with the brother's best friend" thing going on, I'm trying to avoid making it a cliche. I want to take the topic and explore it in a new way. I know it's early, but so far am I succeeding, or does it seem like I'm already starting down the path of 'been there, read that'?

6) Sex scene--too Fabio, hair blowing in the wind? Or was it alright?

7) Any other constructive critisism or advice you may have.

So, now that I've given you something to work with, go forth and review ;)