I try to fix things. “You guys are my family. The last thing I want to do is hurt you or the tour or the fans and so . . . that’s why I decided to go along with it.”

“Go along with it? Christ,” the always-single Rocket mutters. “You sure stuck your boot in that pile of shit, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” I say, staring at the bottle of whiskey on the soundboard across from me. I’m desperate for it to wash down the disappointment I feel over letting my friends, my brothers, down.

“Look. It’s a plan. Not sure if it’s a good one, but it sounds like Nathaniel has the judge locked in on this and that the plan will work. Your brother might be a lot of things to you, but screwing you over isn’t his style. So go along with it. Fine,” Hawkin says, the clear leader in this band of equals. “But to some random woman you met in a coffee shop?” He snorts. “What the fuck, dude?”

“I know. It sounds crazy and—well, perfectly like something I’d do, right?” I ask to which a round of laughs sound off.

“No fucking shit,” Vince says and helps himself to that whiskey that’s definitely now calling my fucking name.

“I promise you, she’s chill, normal, and won’t fuck up the chemistry or vibe or any of that shit.”

“Uh-huh,” Vince says, eyes now back to being closed. “Nothing screams opportunist like the rando who’s suddenly okay with marrying a strange man for no reason.”

I know what he’s saying. Even I’d probably think the same thing if the roles were reversed. “She didn’t come looking for this. She has no Hollywood aspirations. I’m telling you, you guys will like her.”

“How do you know that when you don’t even know her?” Rocket adds.

“Kind of like the same way I knew to trust you assholes and your word when you shook hands over letting me in the band way back when,” I say. Their expressions relay their disbelief.

Vince lifts his glass toward me. “We’re holding you to this, Giz. Your promise to make this work.”

“I know. My word is good,” I say and hate that my voice almost breaks.

Silence settles in the room as the three guys I care about more than anything stare at me. I won’t let them down.

“We know it’s good. We were there that night.” Hawkin tosses the half-eaten pack of Starbursts onto the table beside him. “But we’re going to reserve judgment for this Hendrix chick until after we meet her. That’s only fair.”

“It is.” I nod. “I’ll make this right.”

I meet each of their eyes to let them know I mean it.