More of Us ( A Love You More Rock Star Romance #3) - Laura Pavlov

Chapter One

Jade

We’d been in Honduras for just a few days, and I was adapting to my new environment. We’d flown into Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras, and driven endless miles on dirt roads to our compound. The building was surrounded by a large, cement block wall, which we were told not to leave unless we were with our group. There was no TV here, none of the modern conveniences we were used to, and every evening we all pulled out our prescription bottles and took our malaria pills—a daily reminder that we had entered a different world.

It couldn’t have come at a better time. I was in desperate need of a change, which is why I’d signed up last minute to spend my summer here. I was sick of the drama that had followed me and Cruz, and I’d come to a fork in the road—and I’d decided to change my course.

My heart ached every day, and I hoped that once I immersed myself in helping those in need, it would hurt a little less. That was the goal. I’d found my rock bottom… it was lying on a hotel room floor after being knocked unconscious by my boyfriend’s bandmate, all while Cruz, the love of my life, lie only a hundred feet away unaware because he’d decided to take prescription sleeping pills. Did I mention he chased them down with whiskey? After he’d promised he would stop the pills and the drinking. It could have been worse. I could have died if I’d hit my head differently. And no one would have known.

It was time for a fresh start. No more crying over Cruz Winslow. I was sick of myself and sick of who we’d become. I still loved him. There was no denying it. But that didn’t mean he was good for me.

He wasn’t.

I’d known it for a while, but my traitorous heart had steered me wrong. But I wasn’t thinking with my heart anymore. I was thinking with my head. I was a smart girl. It was time I started acting like it.

I’d done well on my MCAT, and I’d be applying to medical school in two weeks, pending we could find reception out here. My group leader, Richard, would also be applying at the same time, so he said we’d figure it out together, even if it meant driving into the capital to submit our applications.

Cruz had texted me daily since I’d arrived here, letting me know he’d started a thirty-day rehab program in Utah. I didn’t have high expectations. He was continuing as the lead singer of Exiled, and I doubted he’d remain in this program for thirty days. Cruz was stubborn and he hadn’t thought he had a problem before he found me lying unconscious on his hotel room floor, so what would make him think differently now? I wanted to trust him, but I knew better. I’d ignored his downward spiral for months, because I just didn’t want to see it at the time. I didn’t want to add to his stress. There had been signs and red flags—and I’d let him convince me over and over again that he didn’t have a problem. That everything was under control. And I’d bought into all of it. Love had a funny way of allowing you permission to turn a blind eye when it was easier than dealing with the things life was throwing at you. But I’d taken off my rose-colored glasses, and I was seeing things clearly. I had no expectations anymore. It would be easier that way.

I needed him to stop texting me so often. I told him we could text once a week moving forward. I was determined to use this time to figure out who I was and find a new path—and he needed to do the same. Love wasn’t enough. I’d learned that the hard way. I told him he was free to date other girls and do what he wanted. We were done.

Donezo.

Finit.

Although I thought I was tough and brave, honestly—the idea of him with someone else made me sick to my stomach. But it was a necessary pain. I needed to get over him, and I couldn’t do that if we were still hoping to make things work. This