I'm baaaaaack and I've brought a super long chapter with me. I'm nice aren't I?

I want to say a big thanks to all the people who have reviewed or private messaged me about the last couple of chapters especially piersquar3. Your reviews really made me smile and for that I am so unbelievably grateful. Hopefully you will appreciate this chapter as it answers a couple of your questions! Lola and Soap's path is never going to be an easy one but I promise that they will get there eventually! I'm going to try super hard to update again by the end of the week but I have been so mad busy with work and moving into a new flat that my brain is a bit pickled!

I hope you enjoy! Big kisses xxx

Ask anybody that knows me and they'll tell you one thing.

I love breakfast.

Weird? Probably. Completely justified? Definitely.

I had always loved breakfast. When I was younger my mum and dad had always made a big deal about us all sitting down and eating our first meal of the day together. There's that saying that goes, "Eat breakfast like a King, lunch like a Prince and dinner like a pauper." I followed that idiom to the extreme. I had developed this huge fear that if I didn't eat a good breakfast that something bad would happen. It drove the lads mad when they were trying to prepare to fly out on a mission and had Price barking in their ears and I was attempting to force feed them scrambled eggs and toast. But hey, me and breakfast, we went hand in hand. Do you remember when those t-shirts that said, "Jesus is my homeboy" or "Mary is my homegirl" were all the rage? Well, breakfast was both my homeboy and homegirl at the same time. Breakfast was my religion.

So imagine my annoyance that on this particular morning, when London was looking so bloody gorgeous and sparkly and I had spent the evening (and most of the early morning – *shameless brag alert*) having the best sex of my life, that I was going for breakfast with a man who could barely look at me.

Since the weird moment back in my suite, when Soap had denied all memory of our really amazing sex, there had been a stony silence between us. Normally, he was the person with whom I felt most relaxed. He had an effortless charm to him that ensconced you in its big warm arms and made you go all gooey inside. It had been the same since day one, when he had stared at me all openmouthed and furrowed his brow in confusion at my existence. I had warmed to him instantaneously and the normal bullshit barrier that I put between me and all the newbies that started in the squad had vanished. He could be the greatest spy in the world if he wanted to. If I was the target, I'd reveal all my secrets to him in a heartbeat. I mean, I essentially had revealed my biggest secrets last night when I had taken off all my clothes and fucked him so I probably wasn't the most concrete of targets anyway.

But now, all of his sparkly charm had gone, and he was regarding me with cautious eyes as if I was a nameless face and he was a child who had been told never to trust strangers. I hated it. When everything had happened last night I hadn't been supposing that we were destined to run off into the sunset together but Christ, a bit of acknowledgement wouldn't go amiss. Way to make a girl feel spectacular about herself, Soap.

I had given up trying to make polite conversation with him within thirty seconds of us stepping outside of The Berkeley. He had grunted one word answers to all of my observations and questions and his coldness had made me feel a bit queasy. I was furious at myself for giving in to him. It had taken everything not to rescind my breakfast invitation especially as I was taking him to one of my favourite places on our beautiful planet, a teeny, tiny little restaurant called 'The Fire Hydrant' that housed the best breakfast in all of London.

The three of us, Charlotte, Steve and I, had discovered it two months into our time at University, when we had been wandering around Knightsbridge following a night shift in one of the local hospitals. I was starving and about three minutes away from eating my own hand when Charlotte had squealed loudly and flung herself across the road.

"A sex shop!" She cried, with the enthusiasm of a small child at Disney Land who had just spotted Mickey and/or Minnie Mouse.

It was 8:30 in the morning and the roads were beginning to fill with commuters. She practically knocked several of them over as she dragged me towards the unassuming little shop. The sign was stylish. Plain black background with white font. There was nothing about this place that made me think it was a sex shop but hey, if there was anybody on the planet who could sniff out a bit of smut, it was my lovely Charlotte. The kinky little freak.

"Because nothing rings the day in quite like looking at butt plugs!" I grimaced. Maybe I could eat her hand instead? She'd probably be able to fashion another one from a vibrator or something. In fact, I'm 99% sure she'd be happier that way.

She turned to me. "Oh, Lo... I don't need any more butt plugs." She smiled sweetly and pushed the door open. I turned to Steve and he gave a small laugh.

What Charlotte wants, Charlotte gets. And that includes butt plugs apparently.

I steeled myself for the onslaught of PVC and confusing bondage outfits that made my skin crawl when I was hit with the most delicious smell in the world.

The breakfast Gods were real, and by jove they had saved me.

The tiny little shop was, in fact, a bustling little restaurant. It was all gleaming white wall tiles, oak furniture and the most fabulous parquet floor that I had ever seen. It was a hipsters paradise.

Charlotte stormed up to the counter.

"Where's all the sex stuff?"

The man behind the counter regarded her coolly. "Ann Summers?"

"Ha bloody ha." She hissed. "You're called The Fire Hydrant aren't you?"

The man nodded. He was very pretty in a very Viking-esque way. The blondest of blonde hair, pale skin and the most amazing blue eyes that I had ever seen. He was like a beautiful sculpture and had one of those faces that you just couldn't help but stare at.

Also gay. Very, very gay.

And wearing a Topshop necklace that I had been coveting for about six months. I'm pretty sure that I'd have tried to befriend him if I hadn't been so busy drooling over the large stacks of American style pancakes that were appearing from the kitchen.

I was in heaven.

"We are." He said.

"So you know that The Fire Hydrant is a sex position, right?"

"I did know that."

Momentarily distracted from my food lust, I turned to look at Steve. He shrugged at me. He had no idea it was a sex position either. I felt relieved. There was nothing quite like spending an extended amount of time with Charlotte to really make you question exactly how much you knew about sex.

"So it's not very restauranty is it?" She hissed.

He looked at her for the first time since she had stormed over to him. He had fabulous eyelashes that were made even more fabulous by the most inconspicuous coating of brown mascara.

"Because it's my restaurant and I can name it what I like."

Sassy.

Charlotte screwed her fists up into tiny little balls of rage. Steve stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Lo, why don't you order and Charlotte and I will go and sit down and talk about how not everybody is a sex pest."

I didn't need telling twice. He moved her out of the way and I stepped up to the counter.

"Okay, so I'm going to take three stacks of the American pancakes, one with chocolate chips, one with blueberries and one with cinnamon, then I want a side of bacon, a side of those amazing little potato things that I saw leaving the kitchen fifteen seconds ago, some scrambled eggs, an orange juice and a handful of muffins." I paused before turning back to Steve and Charlotte. "What do you guys want?" The man laughed. I snapped my head back towards him. "I really like your necklace."

"I really like your cheekbones." He stopped writing my order on his notepad. "And your friend." He paused. "The boy."

Already there, sparky.

"They'll have the same as me." I told him. "And you should come and introduce yourself. He likes a blonde." I pulled at my own hair. "It's the only reason he's friends with me."

"And what about the sex pest?"

"Oh, we just found her outside and felt sorry for her." I winked at him and pushed myself away from the counter. Spinning around, I caught his eye. "His name is Steve. I'm Lola and the girl who likes to fire hydrant is Charlotte."

He gave a small wave. "I'm Rowan."

He and Steve dated for two months until they both decided that they were better off as friends but I made it a habit to visit his gorgeous little restaurant for breakfast whenever I was in London. I thought about Rowan now as the little black door came into view. I was excited to see him.

"The guy who owns this place is a friend." I told Soap. "He looks a bit like a Viking."

"Okay."

I rolled my eyes and scowled at him as we crossed the road. It didn't help that he looked so, so good in the plain white t-shirt and black jeans he was wearing. I glanced at his arms. He was muscle on top of muscle with a bit more muscle thrown in for good measure and then some more muscle just in case anything happened to the first three layers of muscle. I could see the rigid outline of his abs beneath the white cotton and my head was filled with visions of us locked together in various positions around my suite. It wasn't a hot day but my blood was surging through my veins at a million miles an hour and my cheeks were turning pink. I pushed the door open and searched for the shock of blonde hair. I spotted him immediately. He grinned at me and rushed out from behind the counter.

"I was wondering when I was going to see that ugly mush of yours!" He cried as I flung myself into his arms. He squeezed me tightly.

"Let me look at you!" He pushed me back and studied my face before planting his lips against my cheek. "All limbs still attached so that's pretty good!"

"They keep trying but I just keep dodging those bullets!" I turned to look at Soap. "This is our newest recruit, Soap."

He stepped forwardly stiffly and proffered his hand to Rowan. "Nice to meet you mate."

Rowan's eyes went wide at the accent. I knew they would. He surreptitiously drank him in. His eyes confirmed what I already knew. Soap was hot. Girls were easy to impress. But the gays? The gays were the pickiest people that I had ever met. Apart from deciding that they were better off as friends, Steve had confessed to me that Rowan was just "too blonde" for him. And in turn, Rowan had told me that Steve was an inch too tall for him.

If you could impress a gay man, then you knew you were something special. From the look in Rowan's eyes, Soap was very special indeed.

And I had seen him naked.

Probably. The jury was still out on that one.

Soap's phone started to ring loudly. He fished it from his pocket. He glanced down at the screen and a look of relief flashed across his lovely, lovely face. "Sorry, it's my mam... I've been trying to reach her all morning. Do you mind?"

I shook my head. "What do you want to eat?"

"Surprise me."

I thought I had last night but hey... That's just me.

I watched him go, my eyes focusing on his arse in his tight black jeans. The door shut behind him and I turned back to Rowan who had a dreamy look in his eyes.

"And on the seventh day, God made that man, and it was very good indeed."

I laughed. "I thought you'd like him."

He scribbled down an order and passed it to the kitchen. The fact that I trusted him to order breakfast for me said a lot about our friendship.

"And this frisson between the two of you?" He asked, turning back to me. "I'm not just imagining that?"

I sighed and looked into his big blue eyes. "I'm going to change the subject now." He pouted. "How's H and the boys?"

Rowan had got married three years earlier and he and his husband, Harry – or H for short – had adopted twin boys – Parker and Blake - eighteen months ago.

"H is still gorgeous. The boys are more gorgeous. But I'm the most gorgeous of us all." He grinned. "Obviously."

"I wouldn't expect anything less." I smiled.

"Have you spoken to Steve?" He asked.

"About three weeks ago."

"I met his new squeeze last week." He grinned.

"And?"

"Very McDreamy."

"Which season McDreamy?" I asked. "Very important."

"Definitely season one with a hint of season two."

"Oh, the prime McDreamy years..." I sighed. "Way to go Steve."

Rowan nodded. "God Bless Patrick Dempsey."

We simultaneously held our holds in a prayer position before bursting into laughter. He nudged me with his shoulder.

"You seem happy." He paused. "I like it."

I fixed my eyes on his. Confession time. He knew it was coming. He could read me like a book.

"Soap and I slept together last night."

He slammed his fist down on the counter. "I knew it." He grinned. "It was written all over your faces!" He grabbed my face in his hands. "Tell me everything."

I shook him off with a laugh.

"It's been building up for months and last night it just happened."

"What about the rule? Has Price let it go?"

I shook my head. "Oh no, the rule is still in play."

He patted me gently on the arm. "You're so bad!"

I know that Rowan hadn't meant it, but my brain suddenly woke up. Maybe that was why Soap was denying it? Maybe I was genuinely terrible in bed?

Was that it?

Had my six year sex hiatus rendered me completely useless in the sack?

"When I woke up this morning he pretended that it hadn't happened."

Rowan stopped grinning and looked infuriated on my behalf. "I beg your pardon?"

"He had moved himself into the living room, hung all of my discarded clothes up in the wardrobe and told me he had spent the night on the couch." I paused. "Alone."

Rowan straightened up and cocked his head to the side. "Did you do anything weird?"

I shrugged. "I've been out of the game for a while but I still know how it all works."

He raised any eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

I rolled my eyes. "I think so..." I looked up at him. "I figure that I just take all of the advice that Charlotte has ever given me, and do the complete opposite."

Rowan nodded. "I'd say that's the best way."

The service bell behind him pinged and my secret order appeared already wrapped in a white paper bag. Rowan turned to retrieve the bag and pushed it into my hands. The smell of the food made my mouth water. How wrong would it be to eat Soap's food too? It's the least that he deserved after making me feel as useless as I did.

Rowan grabbed my shoulders. "You are the most beautiful girl in the world and he should be worshipping the ground you walk on."

"But he isn't..." I pouted.

"Then make him! You go out there and you make him admit it!"

He pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead. "And you make sure you know that he's buying into my precious time with you and he owes me."

I laughed. "Oh, I can imagine what you think he owes you."

He feigned a shocked face. "Lola, I am a happily married man and father of two beautiful boys, I have no idea what you are talking about." He winked at me. "We won't mention the sexy Scot to H though, okay?

I reached forward and kissed him on the cheek. "My lips are sealed."

He raised an eyebrow. "My darling girl, if you kept your lips sealed last night then I think we may have found our problem."

I smirked at him and pushed myself away from the counter, the bag of food in my hand.

"Lo, I hate to see you go but I love to watch you walk away!"

"Love you!" I blew a kiss over my shoulder. "Give all the boys kisses from me."

"Give the Adonis a kiss from me then."

I reached the door and placed my hand on the old fashion brass handle. I quickly turned to him. "I'll try!"

He blew me a kiss and I was out the door and back into the gorgeous sunshine. My belly grumbled at the smell of the food and I squinted into the light looking for Soap's familiar outline. I finally spotted him, across the road in the tiny little half moon shape garden known as Wilton park. I skipped across the road quickly, avoiding the black cabs and Range Rovers zooming past me. Soap still had his phone pressed against his ear and was mumbling quickly into the receiver. He ran his spare hand over his eyes and up through his hair as he talked. It was the most inconspicuous of movements, but one that sent a flutter through me regardless. Have we focused on the hair yet? He was hot when he had his boring old hairstyle so IMAGINE my delight when he rolled back from the village one day sporting the most badass mohawk that I had ever seen. I had always held a candle for Robert DeNiro's crazy Travis Bickle and Soap had suddenly been a living, breathing, touchable embodiment of him. I was in heaven. Oh, except in my version of heaven, I wasn't allowed to touch the object of my affections. I had quickly ran my fingers through his hair when the lads had been attempting to lay into him and it had been completely divine. But that one action had been enough to draw a curious glance from Gaz and it had been enough to stop me in my tracks.

If anybody could tell what I was thinking, it was Gaz. We had formed a strong bond in the six years since I had joined the SAS and I now regarded him as family. If Price was my pushy, overbearing yet completely loveable father figure, Gaz was the cool Uncle who bought me alcohol when I was underage and came to pick me up from parties when I'd had a few too many and didn't want to go home. We were extremely close and I completely adored and idolised him but he was as sharp as a whip and didn't miss a trick. He was Price's right hand guy for a reason, and I wasn't willing to push the boundaries on how much, or little, I could get away with in his presence.

I flung myself down on the bench next to Soap.

"Yeah, I will mam." He mumbled. "No. I know."

I heard the distant twittering of his mums voice coming from the receiver.

"Love you both. I'll ring soon."

He straightened up as he moved the phone away from his ear and I began to unload the mass of food from the bag.

"Everything okay?" I asked, stretching my legs in front of me. I could smell pancakes and bacon. Rowan knew me far too well.

"Yep."

I rolled my eyes at the short answer and pulled a styrofoam container from its wrapping. I fished inside the bag for a plastic knife and fork as Soap began to pull apart his own food parcel. I began to devour the food in my lap with my normal ladylike efficiency and Soap tucked into his own pancakes with the same vigour.

The silence was horrible.

I hated a silence anyway but this was just edging into the wrong side of unbearable.

But what did I do? Call him out on it just so he could lie to my face? No. The one bout of humiliation was enough to see me through until the end of the year. But, God, that so wasn't my way. The SAS had taught me that the only way to do anything was to be upfront and honest about it. I had never been dishonest so to speak, but had been mindful of the things that I said in an effort to protect the feelings of those around me. My resolve to act the same way in the SAS had lasted all of two weeks. Everything was out in the open with these lads. It had to be. You couldn't bottle up feelings just for them to explode in the middle of an assignment. That's how mistakes were made. I finished off my last mouthful and threw the rubbish into the bin before turning to Soap.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

He swallowed the food in his mouth and turned to me.

"Doing what?" He stared at me with his big sincere eyes. They were so sincere that I momentarily started to believe that maybe I had imagined the whole escapade.

Except it wasn't a dream or a very graphic figment of my imagination.

Soap and I had slept together.

I glared at him and shook my head before standing up and walking away from the bench.

I wanted to get it all out in the open... I really, really did but hey, there's only so much humiliation a girl can take and I had just about reached my limit.

"Lola!" He was shouting my name and I heard his footsteps behind me as I stormed towards the gates of the park.

Don't stop, I urged myself. One sight of him running in that bloody t-shirt and I'd probably forget my own name. He stopped in front of me, his hands resting against my shoulders.

"Why are you walking away from me?"

I narrowed my eyes and attempted to push past him. He braced his hands against me and I was too distracted by the rippling muscle in his forearms to try and get around him a second time.

God dammit, did he have to be so muscly? I stared up at him.

He really was very handsome.

It wasn't very fair.

"I remember everything that happened last night, Soap." I told him.

I watched as his expression faltered.

"Why are you trying to pretend that it didn't?" I asked. He locked his eyes with mine.

"It's never going to happen again, so why does it matter?"

I opened my mouth and closed it again. I imagine that I resembled a gold fish. He had thrown me. Why did it matter? He was right. What had happened was definitely a one time thing. So why did I care so much?

Erm.

Because I'm a girl.

That's why.

Gender trumps rationality.

"Because you're making me feel like I'm just some stupid girl who took her knickers off for you at the first opportunity that I could." I growled.

I attempted to move around him but his hands were still locked in place against my shoulders.

God damn those muscles.

He frowned at me. "Is that what you really think my opinion of you is?"

I sniffed, childishly. "Yes."

He sighed deeply and bowed his head as if attempting to gather the strength to continue this bizarre little altercation.

He mumbled something, his voice was so small and gentle that I barely picked up on the words.

"What?"

He raised his eyes back to my level. "I said, you pushed me away."

It was my turn to frown.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means that this morning, I woke up in bed next to you and I was so fucking ecstatic to see that gorgeous little face of yours that I reached over to y'know, hold you, and you pushed me off."

I stared at him.

Seriously?

"I wasn't trying to initiate anything. I just wanted to hold you for a second. You looked so beautiful and peaceful and I realised that I'd probably never get the opportunity again, so I just wanted to wrap you up inside my arms and hold you."

it was simultaneously the sweetest and most hilarious thing that I had ever heard.

I didn't know what to do.

"But when I did, you pushed me away." He frowned. "Quite hard actually."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure you'll survive Princess."

He sighed as if completely exasperated by my very existence.

"Soap..." I gave a small laugh. Mostly because I was completely mortified. "I'm not in control of what I do when I'm asleep."

"I know that but I figured that it must be your subconscious telling you something."

"My subconscious wasn't doing anything of the sort..." I grinned. "It's very rare that I have to share a bed with anybody so when I do, my body does pretty weird stuff."

It probably wasn't the time to tell him about the time when I had accidentally given Wallcroft a black eye when he and I had been forced to share a sleeping bag during a cold night in Serbia.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away." I told him.

I meant it. I really, truly did.

"I'm sorry I pretended that we didn't sleep together." He removed his hands from my shoulders and we silently fell into step next to one another.

"It can't happen again though..." Soap looked down at me. "Right?"

I noticed the hopeful twinge in his voice.

I nodded. "It's probably for the best."

The part of my brain that remembered all those wonderful feelings (and multiple orgasms – Praise Jesus, Hallelujah) screamed angrily.

"But thanks for the memories..." I grinned.

"Right back atcha, Kid."

We walked back to the hotel in a comfortable silence. It was the kind of comfort that I was used to with Soap. It was like a hug at the end of a really long and horrible day, or getting into a warm bath after a run in the rain. It was like the air around me seemed to warm and everybody around me seemed to blur against the power of his aura.

It was also worth noting that there wasn't even the slightest hint of awkwardness between us. You know how you get that sometimes? When you've slept with somebody and all you can do is think of all the intimate moments and cringe at the thought of ever allowing their penis near you? That feeling was completely absent.

It was kind of magic.

He was kind of magic.

He bumped his shoulder against mine as we made our way back through the plush double door entrance of The Berkeley. I grinned up at him, pleased that we had managed to clear everything up.

"So what are your plans now?" He asked, as he stepped beside to allow me into the lift. I pressed in the secret code for the floor that led to my suite and the lift began to zoom upwards.

"I need a shower." I paused. "I was too busy being mad at you to bother before."

He held his hands up. "Sorry."

"Then I'll probably watch a film, have a nap and then go and get Gaz."

"What about the rest of the lads?"

I laughed. "They'll still be a bit tied up, I imagine."

He nodded and I understood the more said about Wallcroft et al's sexcapades the better.

"And Price?"

"He'll be asleep until his meeting." I laughed. "The good Captain isn't very good with a hangover."

It was true. Price with a hangover was essentially the beginning of the apocalypse. Nobody was safe.

"If you promise not to pick some bullshit romcom then you're welcome to spend the day with me."

He gave me a look. "Define romcom..."

I grinned and nudged him as we exited the lift together.

"I'm serious. You can't pretend you didn't have sex with me and then force me to sit through a fucking Katherine Hiegl film all on the same day. No matter how much I like you, there would be no coming back from that."

He shrugged. "I can deal with those terms."

We entered the suite and I immediately headed towards the bathroom.

"There's some drinks and food in the fridge if you want anything." I told him. "I'll be twenty minutes or so... Make yourself comfortable."

He gave me a small wave and I entered the bathroom, closing the frosted glass door behind me.

Hotel rooms like this were always designed for sex. The huge tub, the enormous walk in rainfall shower, the barely there door which allowed the person in the bedroom to see the outline of the person in the bathroom and vice versa. I undid my jeans and slid them down my thighs before turning and staring at myself in the mirror. In its reflection I could see the faint outline of Soap in his white t-shirt and black jeans as he settled against the bed.

I thought about us.

In that bed.

I thought about his hands knotting themselves in my hair.

I thought about those gorgeous slow, biting kisses that moved from my mouth down to my neck.

I thought about his big, strong hands wrapping themselves around me and the feeling of him squeezing his arms around my waist as we rocked against one another.

I walked over to the shower and turned it on.

Returning back to the mirror I stared at my reflection and my eyes went down to the hemline of the plain white vest to the small space of skin above my knickers.

I remembered him tracing his tongue along the same spot and my body erupted with goosebumps.

Before I could stop myself I was at the door. Soap stared at me as I wrenched it open.

"We would never get away with anything back at the barracks, right?"

He shook his head.

"So what I'm thinking is that we should probably use our time in this hotel very wisely."

He raised an eyebrow.

He was going to say no, wasn't he? Fuck. My stupid impulsive brain. I turned away before he could answer and closed the door.

Stupid idea, Lola.

I peeled off the rest of my clothes, my body suddenly damp with the heat of the shower and my desire for Soap. Without another thought I pushed myself under the hot water. I needed to rinse away any stupid ideas I had about me and Soap.

It was a one time thing.

That was it.

It didn't matter how beautiful his arms were.

(Even though they were amazing).

I let the water wash over me, tilting my head up towards the enormous flat shower head. A small part of me hoped that he wouldn't be out there when I was finished. I had, effectively, propositioned him.

Oh God.

The shame.

I span around at the sound of the clinking of metal against the tiled floor.

He emerged through the steam and we stared at one another until his face broke into a smile.

Did I mention how good he looked naked?

"Hello." I said.

"Hi."

He stepped towards me and wrapped an arm around my waist.

"You're here."

He nodded. "It would seem that way wouldn't it?"

"Why?"

My body moved towards his as if our hips were attached my magnets and he reached up and cupped my face with his spare hand.

"Well, Lola, there's three reasons, really."

I nodded.

"One. You just emerged from the bathroom wearing only your underwear, and effectively suggested that we have a lot more sex while we have use of this room."

It was true. I had.

"Two. I really want to have shower sex with you."

Gulp.

He leant down and kissed me roughly, wordlessly, pushing my body up against the tiled wall. He placed a hand under my arse and lifted me, Clearly, it was his signature move. Only it was about seven thousand times hotter now that we were in the shower together. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed me again. Harder than the first time, his teeth biting the flesh of my bottom lip. I groaned into his mouth.

"What's the third reason?" I asked between kisses.

He gave a small laugh and my stomach lurched at the wonderful sound. He pulled away from me and we locked eyes.

"The hotel box office is full of bullshit romcoms." he grinned.

I never thought I'd say it but, thank the Lord for Katherine Heigl.