I wasn’t expecting much from the dating app. After weeks of endless swiping through guys who either wanted hookups or “just someone chill,” I was about ready to delete it. Then I matched with Luis. His profile photo wasn’t flashy — just him in a dusty work shirt, smiling half-awkwardly in front of what looked like a half-built house. His bio said something like, “I fix things for a living, but I’m still figuring out myself.”

That made me pause.

We talked for a few days — short, careful messages at first. He used proper punctuation, took time to respond, and was almost apologetic about it: “Sorry, been on the site a long time ago. I think last time I dated, AOL was still a thing.”

When we finally decided to meet, I didn’t have to go far. He sent me his address and I laughed out loud — it was two doors down.

The night I walked over, the scent of concrete dust and fresh rain hung in the air. Luis opened the door in a clean white T-shirt that didn’t do much to hide how solid he was underneath. “Wow,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy grin. “Didn’t realize we were practically neighbors.”

He looked older in person — laugh lines, a bit of gray in his beard — but his eyes were warm, a soft brown that made him seem more nervous than he probably wanted to admit.

Dinner was simple: takeout and a couple of beers on his porch. He told me about his job — years in construction, the pride of watching something rise from dirt and blueprints. Somewhere between stories, he mentioned his divorce, quietly, without bitterness. “Guess I forgot how to do this part,” he said, meaning dating.

“I think you’re doing fine,” I told him.

He smiled, a little crookedly. “You’re kind to say that. You’re fresh outta college, right? Must think I’m ancient.”

“Maybe a little,” I teased. “But I like old things. They’ve got history.”

For a moment, he looked at me like he didn’t know whether to laugh or blush. Then he just chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re trouble, kid.”

The streetlight buzzed softly as we sat there, the kind of easy quiet that doesn’t need to be filled. And in that calm, I realized maybe what I’d been looking for wasn’t excitement — just something real.