You’d been with Michael long enough that the whole “secret relationship” thing wasn’t even the story anymore. A year… maybe two. Long enough that his family heard about you and he’d stopped pretending he wasn’t serious about you.

This was the first time you could actually make it to a Jordan family function though. It was nice to have a quiet break in both your calendars, and it was a holiday he didn’t want to spend without you.

You stood beside him on the porch of his parents’ house with a cheesecake platter balanced carefully in one arm and a bottle of wine in a gift bag. You knew for one thing, coming empty handed was a no go. Mike tried to convince you that they wouldn’t mind if you didn’t bring anything but you knew better.

The smell of someone’s mac and cheese already floated through the crack of the front door. Voices. Laughter. It was joyful and nerve wracking all at the same time. Michael nudged your shoulder lightly, glancing down at you with that soft little smile he saved for moments like this.

“Relax,” he murmured. “They already love you. You basically walked in with a cheat code by coming bearing gifts.”

He looked stupid good tonight, too, like he knew it was killing you a little. He wore a brown, form fitting, knit cardigan that hugged his torso and pecs, sleeves pushed back just enough to show the watch at his wrist. He matched it with baggy slacks, the color of charcoal, a leather belt around the waist, polished shoes and the faintest bit of cologne you always noticed before you even saw him.

He knocked once before pushing the door open. And immediately you were met with warmth. His dad was the first one there, stepping into the doorway with that big, easy smile Michael definitely inherited.

“Well if it ain’t my favorite lovebirds!” he said, voice booming but welcoming as he pulled you right into a hug before you could even respond.