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My Kind of Love (Finding Love 1)

Page 66

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After dropping the bottle into the dishwasher, I head back to the bedroom, turn on the baby monitor, and climb into bed next to Ryan. He groans when the bed jostles him but doesn’t wake up. I pull the cover up and over me, getting comfortable. My eyes are closing when a loud snort has my lids popping open. What the hell was that?

I glance over to where the noise is coming from. It’s Ryan… snoring. Like he can’t breathe. What the hell… Is something wrong with him? I watch him for a few minutes, but he seems okay. I close my eyes again, snuggling farther into my blanket, when I realize I need to go pee.

Damn it! Throwing the blankets off me, I pad to the bathroom. So I won’t wake Ryan up, I leave the bathroom light off. There’s enough light coming in from the hallway and outside. I’m not even a foot into the bathroom when something tangles in my foot and I fly forward. Before I hit the ground, my hands catch the side of the sink and I right myself. Grabbing the offending item, I lift it up and squint. It’s Ryan’s shirt. He left his clothes on the floor… two feet away from the hamper.

Rolling my eyes, I pick up his laundry and drop it into the wicker basket. I back up and, pulling my underwear down, sit to go pee. Only instead of landing on the toilet seat, my body keeps going down.

“Ahhh!” I shriek, as my ass hits the icy cold toilet water. I cringe, thinking about the amount of germs that are hugging my ass cheeks right now.

“Micaela!” Ryan yells, running into the bathroom. He switches the light on, taking in his surroundings like he’s searching for an intruder.

“Help me,” I complain, trying and failing to lift myself out of the damn toilet.

Ryan’s gaze lands on me and his eyes widen in shock. “Oh, shit.”

With my butt so far in, my legs are sticking straight out—with my underwear still wrapped around my ankles—and I probably look like a turtle on its back, struggling to flip over.

He grabs my hands and pulls me up into a standing position. “Are you okay?”

“Aside from my ass being drenched in nasty toilet water, I’m fine,” I huff, pulling my pajama shirt off and throwing it into the hamper… which reminds me. “By the way, in case you didn’t know, this is a hamper. Clothes go in it.” I pull my underwear off and drop it into the hamper as a mock demonstration.

Ryan’s brows furrow in confusion.

“You left your clothes on the floor,” I explain, my tone annoyed. But Jesus, I’m freaking tired. “I tripped over them.”

“And landed in the toilet?”

“No,” I snap. “I landed in the toilet because you left the seat up.” I flick the seat and it hits the porcelain with a loud bang.

“Shit, sorry.” He winces.

“Aren’t you supposed to be all neat and organized in the military? Like, people are depending on you to keep America safe…”

Ryan lets out a laugh, but quickly reins it back in. “I highly doubt me leaving my boxers on the floor will determine whether America remains safe.”

“Well, it’s going to determine whether you remain safe.”

“Got it.” He bites his bottom lip, hiding his smirk, and I sigh, suddenly feeling like the biggest bitch.

“I’m going to take a quick shower.”

His eyes take in my body, as if just now realizing for the first time I’m naked. “Hmm, that sounds like a good idea.” He waggles his brows.

“Not happening.” I gently push him back. “I’m tired and RJ will be up way too soon. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Ryan pouts playfully. “Fine.” He pecks my lips before exiting the bathroom.

After I take the quickest shower known to man, I throw on fresh pajamas and underwear. Ryan has already fallen back to sleep—and is snoring—so I climb into bed. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, I scoot closer to him to check out his snoring. I’ve never heard anything like this before. It literally sounds like he’s struggling to breathe. Could something be wrong? I try to think if I’ve ever heard him do this before, but every time we’ve spent the night together I slept all night.

When he softly chokes, sounding like a congested pig, I pull up Google. It says sleeping on your side can help, so I push Ryan over. He goes willingly, and for a good minute, the room is quiet. Until it starts up again.

My God, he’s loud.

I read some more recommendations, but they all involve surgery or suffocating the person…

I try to block it out, fluffing my pillow and closing my eyes, but it can’t be ignored. So, I reach over and gently squeeze his nostrils for a few seconds. His eyes pop open and he sucks in a deep breath.



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