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Food truck parked at his house, Luke invites me inside so he can change into clothes that don’t smell like food. He offered to take me by the apartment so I could freshen up, but this is as fresh as I need to be for now—I’m nervous about Gretchen’s loose lips and the Jaina Jacen jokes she might “accidentally” drop on to the carpet.
His living room is remarkably clean for a bachelor. The space is an advertisement for IKEA, from the red sectional to the pine coffee table and matching media cabinet, but the six glass-front bookcases—absolutely stuffed with Star Wars memorabilia—are dusted and organized. And he has more books than I do.
I must say, I appreciate a man who reads.
In the corner stands a life-size Stormtrooper and R2-D2. I cannot imagine how much these cost. When I raise my
