Chapter Text
You'd swiped left on plenty of profiles tonight: gym bros, dudes with fish, finance guys with boats, and one particularly memorable specimen who'd somehow made loving his mom sound like a red flag.
But one made you stop scrolling.
Roy, 33, Star City, WA
Hot Single Dad in Your Area (no, seriously)
The first photo was a mirror selfie: trucker hat, cut-off sleeve shirt that showed off tattooed arms, and the kind of careless confidence that came from genuinely not trying. You almost swiped left on principle – too attractive usually meant too much drama – but something made you keep looking.
The second photo stopped you cold. Those same muscular forearms were absolutely covered in Rainbow Loom bracelets and plastic bead creations. Pink, purple, green, a lopsided heart charm, #1 Farter. He wore them like badges of honor.
Third photo: an old Matchbox Twenty shirt, flannel, and the same trucker hat, with a quiver and compound bow visible in the background. Okay, so he was that kind of Star City resident.
Noted.
But it was the voice message that made you actually laugh out loud in your apartment.
"So, uh, hey…" His voice was raspy, but full of warmth at the same time. "I'm Roy, I'm a single dad, I've been sober for three years, and I'm really into –"
"DADDY!" A little girl's voice cut him off. "Can we watch COPS now? You promised!"
A long-suffering sigh. "Yeah, twerp, give me like five minutes and I’ll –"
"You said that at dinner!"
"Okay, okay, I'm coming. So yeah, that's me. Swipe right if you're cool with a guy who watches COPS reruns and can’t win at Uno to save his life."
The message cut off. You could hear him laughing as it ended.
His profile was sparse after that: Job: Tech. Beliefs: Other. Looking for: Something legit.
You stared at the profile for a long moment, thumb hovering over his photos.
The bracelets got you. That voice message got you. The fact that he was open about his sobriety and single parenthood definitely got you.
You swiped right.
It's a Match!
Your heart did a stupid little flip. Before you could overthink it, you typed out a message:
You: Okay, are you actually horrible at Uno, or do you just let your kid win? I'm basing this on nothing but vibes and the bracelet collection
The response came faster than expected.
Roy: She absolutely cheats. The kid has no poker face, but I still fall for it every time. Also, she makes me wear the bracelets in public, so if you ever see a guy at the Star City Trader Joe’s looking like a Jojo Siwa backup dancer, that's me.
You grinned, typing back.
You: Respectable commitment to the bit. The Matchbox Twenty shirt also suggests you have range
Roy: Listen, Yourself or Someone Like You is a perfect album, and I'll die on that hill
You: I'll add it to the list of your red flags.
Roy: I think pineapple on pizza is fine. I still say "sick" unironically, and I wear flip flops with jeans.
You: Okay, now you're just showing off
The conversation flowed more easily than any you'd had on the app in months. He was genuinely funny, self-deprecating in a way that didn't feel like he was fishing for compliments, and texted in full sentences like an actual adult human. You talked about everything and nothing; his daughter's current obsession with COPS and Pawn Stars, your job, his extremely vague "tech stuff" that he deflected from with a joke about turning it off and on again.
It was almost midnight when he sent:
Roy: So I know this is forward, but would you want to grab coffee this week? I know a place that does a mean cortado and doesn't judge you for ordering a muffin the size of your head
You: Yes, absolutely. Wednesday work?
Roy: Wednesday's perfect. I pick the kid up from school around 3, so I'm a free man til then. Lou's Coffee on 4th?
Your fingers froze mid-typing. Lou's Coffee on 4th. That was... the place on the corner of your block. The place you went to every single morning.
You: Wait, Lou's? That's right by my apartment
Roy: No way, me too! Not to be weird, but which building?
You told him. There was a longer pause this time.
Roy: You’re shitting me
You: WHAT
Roy: I'm in 6F
You: I'm in 6C
Roy: We've been in the same building this whole time???
You: Have we met???
Roy: I don't know!! Do you ever take the stairs?
You: Only when the elevator's broken
Roy: Okay, same. Although wait, are you the person who always smells like vanilla in the hallway?
You looked at your candle collection. Guilty.
You: ...possibly
Roy: HOLY SHIT IT'S YOU. You're 6C! I've been trying to figure out which apartment that was coming from for like eight months. Lian asked me once if "the cookie person" lived in our building
You: THE COOKIE PERSON??
Roy: SHE'S SIX, OKAY. She associates good smells with cookies
You: So, do you still want to meet for coffee, or is this too weird now?
Roy: Are you kidding? This is the best thing that's happened to me all week!
Roy: Although I'm definitely going to have a crisis about how many times I've probably walked past you in Crocs and Grinch pajama pants
You: If it helps, I'm usually also in pajama pants and my worst hoodie
Roy: Okay, so Wednesday, Lou's, we both show up in nice clothes and pretend we didn't already know we live in the same building?
You: Deal.
You fell asleep that night with your phone still in your hand, a smile on your face, and the knowledge that the hot guy with the trucker hat and Rainbow Loom bracelets lived exactly two floors below you.
Wednesday couldn't come fast enough.
When Wednesday finally arrived, Lou's was already bustling with the morning crowd. You spotted Roy immediately.
He looked even better in person. The trucker hat was present, but he'd paired it with a dark blue flannel over a grey t-shirt and jeans. He was sitting at a corner table, his leg bouncing slightly, and when he looked up and saw you, his whole face broke into this genuine, crooked grin that made your stomach flip.
"Cookie person," he said as you approached.
"Tech guy," you countered, sliding into the seat across from him.
"Okay, so…" He ran a hand through his hair, disrupting the hat. "I've been going insane about this. How have we never run into each other?"
"I don't know! I'm usually running out the door at like 7:30 for work –"
"I'm always up at six because the kid has the internal clock of a rooster –"
"So we're just on completely different schedules."
"Apparently." He shook his head, still smiling. "I can't believe I paid for Hinge Premium to match with someone who lives in my building."
"You paid for Premium?"
"I…" He had the grace to look sheepish. "In my defense, my buddy Dick and I made profiles together as a whole thing. He's going through a divorce and needed the moral support, and I figured, why not? Misery loves company and all that. We had NA beers and decided it’d be a good idea."
"They make NA beer?"
"Sober, remember?" He grinned. "Dick had picked up a couple of night shifts, though, which is why his profile picture is him doing a handstand. He's actually doing pretty well on there, the bastard. Meanwhile, I'm over here matching with my neighbor."
"Hey, I'm a great match."
"Oh, absolutely. Best twenty bucks I ever spent." He flagged down a barista. "What do you want? It's on me. Least I can do since I apparently catfished you with location data."
You ordered your usual, and he got a black coffee and – as promised – a muffin the size of his head, which he immediately broke in half and offered to you.
"So," you said, accepting the muffin piece. "Sober for three years. That's really great, Roy."
Roy took a sip of his coffee and glanced up at the ceiling. "Yeah. It was a whole thing. I was in a bad place for a while, and then Lian happened, and I just…I had to pull my head out of my ass and get my shit together." He took a sip of coffee. "I know it's a lot to lead with on a dating app, but I'm too old to pretend it's not part of my story, you know?"
"I think you’re incredibly brave to be so open about it."
"Or it's just me being too tired to maintain a mysterious persona." But he was smiling again. "What about you? What's your deal? Besides making our entire floor smell incredible, apparently."
You talked. And talked. The coffee shop filled and emptied around you, and neither of you moved. He told you about his daughter, Lian, and how she was obsessed with crime shows and making bracelets and had recently declared she wanted to be either a veterinarian or a "professional soccer player who also solves mysteries."
He told you about his job – something about "network security consulting," but you got the sense there was more to it. He told you about how archery was a lifelong hobby, how it helped him stay centered, and about teaching Lian to shoot a junior bow in the park.
You told him about your work, your hobbies, and the candle addiction that was apparently building a reputation. He listened like you were the most interesting person he'd ever met.
"Okay, real talk," Roy said eventually, leaning forward. "Are you going to think I'm a creep if I walk you home?"
"Roy, we live in the same building."
"Right. Yeah. I knew that." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, are you going to think I'm a creep if I walk you to your floor?"
"Roy. You’re on my floor."
“...right.”
The walk back took about ninety seconds. You'd never been more aware of someone's presence next to you: the easy way he matched your stride, how he held the door open, the faint smell of coffee, toaster waffles, and something woodsy.
At your door, you turned to face him. "So."
"So," he echoed.
"This was really nice."
"Yeah, it was." He hesitated, drumming his fingers on his thighs. "Can I see you again? I know I'm just three doors down, so it's not like you can avoid me, but…"
"Roy."
"Yeah?"
"I'd really like to see you again."
His grin could've powered the whole building. "Friday? I can actually do dinner; Lian’s grandparents have been begging to babysit."
"Friday works."
He took a step back, still smiling, still looking at you like he couldn't quite believe this was happening. "Okay. Cool. I'll text you."
"You better."
You watched him head down the hall. Just before he disappeared, he turned back.
"Hey, cookie person?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really glad I paid for Hinge Premium." "I'm really glad you did too, tech guy."
Turns out, there was a hot, single dad in your area, after all.