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It doesn’t occur to him until she’s already halfway across the terrace just how often he’s let Donna walk away from him in recent years. And, okay, maybe it hadn’t always been his choice — there are several moments that come to mind where he had been on the verge of begging her to stay by his side, but his point is, the sight of Donna walking away from him is one that’s becoming far too familiar.
Josh had watched her walk away from him this morning, an extra sway in her hips as she’d given him one last shy smile over her shoulder, a look in her eyes that told him all too well that she hadn’t expected much more from him than what he’d given her.
Josh has spent the past ten months watching her walk away from him time and time again, this time with a sadness in her eyes and something on the tip of her tongue that he knows neither of them could quite bring themselves to admit.
He watched her walk away from him the Christmas she spent with Jack while he had moped about his apartment alone, the Christmas he couldn’t work up the courage to tell her how he really felt. And has regretted it ever since.
Only — this time, it feels different. This time, he knows what it’s like to live without her and he knows that it’s not something he ever wants to do again. This time, he knows what it’s like to kiss her, to ghost his fingertips along her jaw as she gasps softly into his mouth, to have her body pressed against his, her hands in his hair and her lips moving with his —
And, God, if he doesn’t want to kiss her again.
If he doesn’t want to hold her and touch her and worship her. If he doesn’t want to feel her tremble under his touch, to know what it feels like when she falls apart around him. If he doesn’t want to tell her that he loves her. That he’s loved her for years now and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop.
Because this is Donna.
Donna who hired herself on a whim and somehow became everything he never knew he needed. Donna who nursed him through his recovery with nothing more than a notebook full of scribbles and sheer determination, who held him the night he’d been diagnosed with PTSD and let him cry into her chest without judgement. Donna who almost died on a trip he sent her on, and again in a hospital in Germany.
Donna who already left him once because he couldn’t give her what she needed.
And Josh isn’t sure of very much right now, but he’s beyond certain that he doesn’t want to go through that again. That he doesn’t want to live another day without Donna by his side.
So he lets his eyes flicker to Donna one last time before leaning forward to reach for the key, a near imperceptible smile playing on his lips as he pictures the dazed smile she’d given him after he’d kissed her.
Only, Ronna beats him to it, her hand shooting out to grab the key before he has a chance.
“She forgot her key,” she points out before calling after Donna.
“No, I got it,” Edie insists with a smile, taking the key. “I’m going up anyway.”
“No —“ Josh tries to interrupt, but either she doesn’t hear him or she isn’t paying attention, because she’s already following Donna inside, the key clutched firmly in her hand.
He sits back with a dejected sigh, can’t help but think that maybe this is just one of those things, yet another reminder from the universe that he and Donna aren’t meant to happen.
But it doesn’t feel like that anymore. Not after this morning, not after the terrible year he spent without her. No, it feels like maybe the stars are finally aligning, like this might be their last chance, so he jumps to his feet, all but pushing Bram aside as he sidesteps the table and jogs the length of the terrace.
“Josh, what —“ Ronna starts to ask him, but he ignores her, can feel both her and Bram watching him with a burning curiosity as he tries to stop her before it’s too late.
But Edie has already caught up with Donna, just on the other side of the glass door, and now Donna’s staring at him with a mixture of bewilderment and hurt on her face, with those wide, sad eyes that have always made him weak.
Josh yanks on the door to pull it open, a sheepish grin breaking out as he comes to a stop.
“I’ve got it,” he tells a mildly confused Edie, somewhat breathless as he reaches out to snag the key from her hand. “Thanks.”
Then he wordlessly brings his hand up to rest on the small of Donna’s back, where it’s belonged for eight years, and for however many more she’ll have him, and leads her through the bar and to the elevator, ignoring Edie’s baffled stammering.
Donna doesn’t say anything as he presses the button for the elevator, nor does she say anything as they wait for it to arrive, but she’s biting back a grin and he’s almost certain she’s leaning into his touch, so he can only assume that this is okay.
The elevator doors slide open and Josh ushers her in, his hand firmer on her back now in an attempt to distract from how nervous he suddenly feels. His fingers flex against the material of her coat, his thumb tentatively tracing patterns on her back as he considers his next move.
And then Donna’s laughing, loud and delighted, her eyes sparkling and her head thrown back as she holds onto his arm for balance.
“Donna, what..” But Josh is grinning too now, so wide it hurts his cheeks, the sudden surge of warmth and affection he feels so unexpected, yet so familiar, that he finds himself laughing alongside her.
“You know,” Donna says after a moment, her smile faltering and a slight waver to her voice as she casts her gaze to the floor. “They’re gonna realise what’s going on.”
Josh nods, his own smile fading.
“Yeah. I know.”
“And you don’t thing they’ll have something to say?”
“Well I’m their boss, so —“
“You’re my boss too,” she interrupts quietly, a resigned sadness in her voice that takes his breath away.
“Donna…”
They reach their floor, the elevator doors opening, and Josh lets his hand drop to his side. Doesn’t quite know what to say as he follows Donna to the end of the hallway. She comes to a stop outside her room, turns to him expectantly, and he doesn’t quite know what the look she’s giving him means, but she hasn’t sent him away yet, and he’s not quite willing to let go of that flicker of hope just yet.
Realising he’s still holding onto her key, Josh chuckles awkwardly as he slides it into the lock. He turns it and tries the handle, but it sticks. So he turns it again, and again, and —
“Here,” Donna murmurs fondly, gently nudging him out the way. “Let me.”
She has the door open in seconds, holding it open for him as she motions for him to enter.
He’s not surprised to see that her room is perfectly tidy and organised, that all her clothes have been folded and packed away neatly. Pretty much the opposite of his room. He only feels slightly bad when he shrugs out of his coat and throws it across the desk chair instead of hanging it up. But he has much more important things on his mind right now.
(Exhibit A: Donna staring up at him with wide, worried eyes.)
“I’m your boss,” Josh declares, because it’s all he can think to say right now. His voice sounds much too loud in her tiny hotel room and it almost leaves him wishing he hadn’t said anything at all. But then Donna tilts her head at him, a soft curiosity in her eyes as she worries her lower lip between her teeth, and it’s all the encouragement he needs to go on. “But I was your boss for eight years before this and I still managed to fall for you.”
Donna’s jaw drops, his name a breathless exhale on her lips, her expression a mixture of awe and bewilderment, that would be hilarious if his heart weren’t pounding in his chest, if his palms weren’t embarrassingly sweaty. If he hadn’t been imagining this moment for years now.
“Besides,” he continues with a nervous shrug, shoves his hands in his pockets so she won’t see how badly they’re trembling, so she won’t notice how terrified he is. “I won’t be your boss for much longer. The election’s right around the corner and, after that, who knows where we’ll be?”
She frowns, a spark in her eye that lets him know she’s gearing up for a fight. It’s something he’s desperately missed about her — her passion, her gumption, she had told him through drunken laughter once upon a time — and it makes him smile.
“So you want to… wait?” She clarifies, one hand resting on her hip as she lets out a soft laugh of disbelief. “Until after the election?”
Josh nods once. Shakes his head. Shrugs halfheartedly.
“I mean… Not really. But what choice do we have?”
Donna clasps her hands together, head angled down as she bites back a nervous smile. And Josh knows her well enough to know that her irritation had all been for show, that she’s as uncertain as he is, as insecure. Can only hope it means she wants this, too.
“And what if I don’t want to wait either?” She asks quietly, lifting her head to meet his gaze. Her cheeks are pink and there’s an uncertainty in her eyes that makes him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. But they have too much to work through for this, and he’s still not entirely convinced he isn’t going to mess this whole thing up.
“Donna…”
“What if I fell for you while you were falling for me?” She asks, and Josh swears his heart stops in his chest. Donna clears her throat, continues with a newfound confidence, despite the hint of uncertainty in her voice. “What if I’d been waiting for you to kiss me for eight years? What if, now I know what it feels like, I don’t ever want to stop?”
Josh opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. Which makes sense, he thinks, because he’s finding it incredibly difficult to form any kind of coherent thought right now, never mind sentence. Is finding it incredibly difficult to think of anything other than Donna. And he probably shouldn’t be surprised that she feels the same way, could probably pinpoint an endless series of moments spanning their entire relationship that should really have given both of them away before now, but there’s something he can’t quite fathom about Donna falling for him too. Something that doesn’t quite add up about Donnatella Moss, the kindest, sweetest, most wonderful person he’s ever known, falling for him. But he’s not about to start complaining.
“Josh, you’re my boss,” she continues after another moment of baffled silence from him. She shrugs, her expression softening and an all too familiar tenderness to her voice. “You’ve been my boss for eight years now. But you’re also my best friend, and you’ve been my best friend pretty much since the day I met you. So, if you’re worried about how this will affect the campaign, then we can wait. But if the reason you want to wait is because you’re worried about what people are going to think — then I don’t think this is going to work.”
Josh’s breath catches in his throat, the words he’s been searching for finally escaping.
“What are you saying?” He asks softly, panic rising at the thought of Donna leaving him again.
“I’m saying…” She cuts herself off with a wry smile, shakes her head. “I’m saying I’ve loved you for so long that I can’t remember a time when I didn’t. But I can’t wait around forever. No matter how much I might want to.”
“What did you say?” Josh asks in awed wonder, a smile tugging at his lips.
Donna freezes, her eyes widening and her cheeks flushed red.
“Uh…”
“What did you say?” He urges gently, not entirely sure he hadn’t imagined her words. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s dreamt about this moment only to wake up in a cold sweat and realise that Donna is nowhere to be seen and he’s, once more, left all alone.
“Josh…”
He steps forward, his movements slow and deliberate to give her the chance to back away, to tell him to stop. Because, as much as he loves her, as desperate as he is to just be with her, if she tells him this isn’t what she wants then he’ll respect her wishes and leave her alone. No matter how hurt he’ll end up in the process. Donna nods her consent, the tension draining from her body as she meets his gaze, as he winds his arms around her waist and gently pulls her towards him. She hesitates for a nanosecond before bringing her hands up to rest flat against his chest, her thumb inadvertently stroking the spot where his scar is. Josh briefly wonders if she can feel the way his heart is pounding in his chest, if he’s imagining the hitch of her breath as she settles in his arms.
“Donna,” he says, voice low and sincere, expression as earnest and tender as it’s ever been. He smiles softly, tightens his grip on her, whether to reassure her or himself, he isn’t entirely sure, but he swallows, takes a deep breath — and takes a leap of faith. “If you say it I’ll say it back.”
Donna doesn’t respond, but he recognises the way her nose scrunches imperceptibly when she’s deep in thought, the way her eyes map his features as she searches his face for reassurance, the soft sigh she releases before her face breaks out into a bashful grin.
“Josh,” she murmurs, and her voice is no more than a nervous whisper. But it’s enough. Especially when she slides her hands up his chest to hook around his neck, her fingers gently combing through his curls. “I love you”
And even though he’d been expecting to hear it, even though he’d all but begged her to say it, hearing those three words from Donna after all these years — well, it simply takes his breath away.
“I love you, too,” he chokes out, can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed by the emotion in his voice, the tears glistening in his eyes. Not that he thinks any of that will scare her off. Not Donna, who’s been by his side through every horrible thing that’s happened to him these past eight years, who’s seen him at his darkest and loves him anyway.
Donna loves him.
And isn’t that going to take some time to sink in?
“We don’t have to tell anyone,” Donna decides, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“Donna…” Josh laughs in disbelief. “I would shout it from the rooftops if I didn’t think it would get me arrested. But maybe we should start with just telling the Congressman,” he suggests. “And take it from there.”
“Okay,” she agrees, a toothy grin on her face as she hides her face in the crook of his neck. “Are we really doing this?” She asks, voice muffled by his shirt.
“Donna,” he says gently, one hand coming up to comb through her hair. “Look at me.”
She does, a timid smile on her face as she lifts her head, her eyes wide and unsure. But there’s no mistaking the warmth in her eyes, the affection that’s been plain on her face since the day he met her.
“Did you miss the part where I said ‘no take backs’?”
This does the trick, Donna rolling her eyes with a snort of laughter as she swats at his shoulder.
“I hate you,” she grumbles, but she’s smiling, and he can no longer sense any of her earlier apprehension.
“No you don’t,” he argues, a shit-eating grin on his face, his nose brushing against hers as he leans in to kiss her, stopping before his lips actually meet hers. “The opposite, in fact.”
“Josh?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“So demanding,” he teases, lips quirked up at the sides. But then Donna’s tugging on his shirt collar and slanting her lips over his in a searing kiss and he completely forgets what point he was trying to make in the first place.
It’s desperate and messy, the tentativeness of their first kiss gone and replaced with eight years worth of yearning and wanting, with hands gripping hair and clothes, her nails scratching his back where her hands have found their way under his shirt, his fingertips digging firmly into her hips.
“I have to ask,” Josh murmurs, affectionate laughter in his voice as he starts to trail kisses along her jawline, down her neck. Donna moans softly, head tilting to the side as one hand tangles in his hair, the other scrambling to undo his shirt buttons. “The key? In the bar? How long have you been planning that?”
Donna pushes him away with a frustrated huff, the scowl on her face belied by the laughter in her eyes, and he can’t help but flash her a dimpled grin, too full of love and awe and happiness to really do much else.
“Josh,” she says, hands fisting the material of her shirt. “I’m about to take this off. What side of the door do you want to be on when that happens?”
Josh snaps his mouth shut, eyes widening as Donna gives him a coy smile, leans in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.
“That’s what I thought.”
Then she’s pulling her shirt over her head, leaving her standing in front of him in nothing but her pants and a lacy white bra, and his mind goes blank.
Yeah, Josh thinks to himself as he watches Donna reach behind herself to unclip her bra, a bashful smile on her face as she lets it fall to the floor. Absolutely no take backs.