Fighting to Win (The Elite Book 1) (6 page)

T
he medal bumped
against Mitch’s chest as he followed Brett, who’d won bronze, through to the press conference. He was still flying high from the victory. With at least another two events to compete in, he could end up with four golds from these Games. But he wasn’t going to get ahead of himself. He was pretty happy with the two he’d already won and the fact that he and Julia had reconnected. It felt natural to kiss her after his win. It had been worth the ribbing he’d gotten from everyone. The taste of her strawberry lip balm lingered on his lips.

“You’ve got the medals and the girl,” Brett commented as they sat down at the table in preparation to chat with the gathered journalists.

The last thing Mitch wanted to do was to get into an argument with his teammate. Not the sort of publicity USA Swimming would be happy with. Not the type of publicity he would be happy with. And with the high of winning slowly dissipating through him, he knew that before he and Julia could fully commit, they had to talk about what happened after the bribery allegations. And the man sitting next to him played a major role in their breakup.

He directed a hard look a Brett. “Now’s not the time talk about that. Let’s get through the press conference. I don’t think you want any more negative publicity.”

“Whatever.” Brett slumped in his chair.

Yah, it was a low blow. Until his picture with Julia had been plastered all over the Internet, Brett had been billed as the next greatest thing when Mitch retired from the sport. After the incident, it seemed Brett had decided that he liked the bad boy moniker and had gone out of his way to make it stick. Even now, in Rio, he’d been seen partying it up with some of the competitors from Switzerland. Obviously, it wasn’t affecting his performance. Or maybe it was. Brett could’ve had more than two bronzes and a silver medal. Of course, he’d won those medals in the events Mitch had competed in. But he had a chance to get gold in the butterfly—a stroke Mitch had never quite mastered.

“Mitch and Brett, the rivalry between the two of you extends to outside of the pool. I noticed, Mitch, you and Julia Ashland seem to have reconciled. Anything you wish to say on the subject?”

Brett’s snicker didn’t endear him to Mitch, and his personal life was the last thing he wanted to talk about with the press.

“That’s the question you want to lead in with? Not the fact that I broke an Olympic record?”

A stunned silence fell over the room. He almost laughed at the comical look of shock on a few of the reporters’ faces. For years Mitch had toed the publicity line, never rocking the boat. Saying all the right things. Answering all the questions, no matter how much he didn’t want to. He had a reputation as the polite sports star. Not one who incurred the wrath of the press. With that one answer, he may have undone all that work. He didn’t care, though. He had no desire to talk to the press about Julia and him.

“Hi, Mitch. Congratulations. Can you tell us what you were feeling when you looked at the screen and saw you’d broken the Olympic record?” A different reporter posed the question. While Mitch was grateful for the topic, he had a feeling the other reporter wasn’t going to let him get away with not answering his question.

“Thanks. It’s always a thrill to know I’ve broken a record.” Mitch indicated to both guys sitting on either side of him. “I have these two guys to thank for pushing me. They both swam a good race. I just happened to be the one lucky enough to have what it took to get the win.”

“Brett, you had a lead going into the final turn of the race. Can you tell us what happened during that final lap?”

“I lost the race in the final lap, that’s what happened.” Brett’s response was curt and to the point. Mitch couldn’t blame him for his terse response. No doubt the reporter thought it was a reasonable question. To him and every other competitor who lost a race, it was a silly question. No one wanted to talk about how or why they lost. They all wanted to win.

“Mitch, you’ve had quite a few close races these Games; in fact, your time in the semis was one of your slowest. Why do you think that is?”

Mitch sat back in his chair. “We’re at the Olympic Games. The place where the best of the best get to compete against each other. Champion against champion. There are a hell of a lot of good racers here. Dane Parkland has pushed me to dig deeper. Brett here is another who competes hard, making me compete harder. We all want to win an Olympic gold. At the end of the day, the semi may not have been my best time, but I got to the final and I won. Now I look to the next event.”

The reporters asked questions of both Brett and the silver medalist, but Mitch tuned out to their answers. He was waiting for that first reporter to pipe up again. He hadn’t asked a single question after that; the. reporter had to be from some gossip Internet site. How they were allowed into the press conferences was beyond him when they treated the press pass as carte blanche to take the focus from the Games and put it onto the competitors’ personal lives.

A dig to the ribs made him look over at Brett with a raised eyebrow. Brett nodded toward the crowd of reporters. Clearly he’d missed a question directed at him.

“Sorry,” he addressed the room. “What was the question?”

The way a couple of reporters leaned forward in anticipation, Mitch knew the question was a doozey.

“I asked, now that you’ve responded to questions about the race, whether you’d answer my first question.”

Even though he didn’t need reminding of exactly what that question was, Mitch feigned ignorance. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”

The reporter smirked, knowing exactly what Mitch was doing. “My question was, have you and Julia Ashland reconciled?”

In truth, it was a good question. He couldn’t say for sure. Did sleeping with her before anything had been resolved or discussed constitute as a reconciliation?

But as much as he wanted to avoid answering the douche, he couldn’t get by with dodging the question again.

“I’ve always strived to keep my personal life personal. That didn’t happen last year, and I’m hoping that it’s not going to happen again with this question. So in that vain, my answer is ‘no comment.’”

Of course, sleazy reporters like this douche never gave up when they scented a juicy story. The reporter directed his next question to Brett. “Do you have anything you’d like to say Brett? After all, Julia and you were reportedly a hot item last year.”

Mitch clenched his fists in his lap to stop from pounding them on the table and telling the reporter to take a long walk off a very short plank. If his teammate knew what was good for him, Brett wouldn’t give the reporter any further gossip.

“Well, now, that’s for me to know and you all to find out.”

If Mitch thought his anger had reached boiling point, Brett’s response sent it to volcano erupting proportions. The desire to flatten his fist into Brett’s face was almost too much to control.

“Is that all the questions?” Mitch ground out.

“Just one more. Any response to Brett’s response?”

God, couldn’t someone do something about this fucking reporter? Was he trying to get them to exchange punches in the middle of the press conference? Was the whole thing a setup to give Brett the headlines instead of him? He would like to think Brett wouldn’t do something like that, but he couldn’t be sure. Over the last twelve months, Brett had pushed the limits with his public persona. Did he really enjoy the bad boy image he was creating, or was there another reason for him to be an asshole right now?

Everyone in the room was looking at him. He needed to answer.

“No. Thank you, everyone.”

He pushed back his chair and stalked out of the room, not caring what anyone thought. He needed to find Julia and get the answers to the questions he didn’t want to ask.

Or maybe it would be better for everyone if they avoided each other. Even if that was the last thing he wanted to do. Maybe Anabel was right—perhaps Julia wasn’t good for him.

C
onfronting
Mitch before her practice session probably wasn’t conducive to her training, but Julia knew what needed to be done.

She’d decided last night that she was going to let him know everything that had happened between her and Brett. She was determined to set the record straight so they could go into their events without the specter of the past hanging over them—until she’d watched the press conference after Mitch’s medal win.

After the way the reporter attempted to goad a response out of Mitch and Brett about her relationship with the both of them, she knew that she had to keep her distance.

So here she was, standing in front of Mitch’s room. She couldn’t put it off any longer. She raised her fist and knocked on the door. It opened before she’d finished her second knock, almost like Mitch knew she had been standing there.

“Oh hey, Julia, I was about to go looking for you.”

His greeting was less than enthusiastic, considering how he’d kissed her on the pool deck the previous evening.

“Can I come in?”

He took a step back and held the door open wider for her. She kept her gaze from Mitch’s bed. If she didn’t, she’d remember how good it had felt to be in his arms again. To feel his body moving over hers in a smooth motion.

“Is Drake around?”

“Nah. He’s with the physio again.”

“Is he okay?” She knew Drake had been injured after the Olympic trials. If he was hurt, hopefully it wasn’t serious enough to stop him from competing in his events.

“I think so, but I also think he has a thing for Tamara.”

“Okay well, good. Umm. Not good that he could be hurt, but good that—” Julia stopped herself from spouting out more useless words. What she needed to do was say what she needed to and then get the hell out of here so she could focus on her events. She would be competing in a little over a week, and if she wanted to win she needed to concentrate on her dives, not on Mitch.

Wrapping her arms around her body, she looked up at the ceiling. “I think it would be best if what happened yesterday here in this room and last night at the pool doesn’t happen again.”

There, she’d said it. Her words had sounded strong and convincing. Man, she should get an Oscar or at the very least a Golden Globe for that performance. Even she could almost believe she meant every word she said.

“I agree.”

Whoa!

What?

Mitch agreed with her. Surely, she’d heard that wrong. Disappointment shot through her, which was ridiculous given she’d been the one to suggest it first. “Oh, okay. Well, that’s good. I’m glad we agree.”

Why did his agreement hurt so much? The previous year, she’d had no luck getting him to buy into their separation. Why did he agree with her so easily this time?

“Yeah, I was coming to tell you the same thing.”

He stood by the door, arms crossed over his hard, muscled chest, an impenetrable force. Looking exactly like the Olympic athlete he was.

Her feet needed to move. She needed to get out of the room now, before she did something stupid like tell him it was all a mistake.

“Great. Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

She brushed past him, hoping against hope that he would stop her. That he would push the door shut, stopping her from exiting his room.

He didn’t.

He let her leave without even acknowledging her parting words. The door clicked shut behind her, a tiny sound but it reverberated around her like a sonic boom.

Had that really just happened? Why was she so upset? Wasn’t this what she wanted? After the press conference she’d known the scrutiny over how Mitch performed for the rest of the games would be intense. No one would care too much about her performance. She wasn’t a medal chance, regardless that she was the current world champion of her event. The Games were a completely different kettle of fish. Mitch was the big star, and if he failed to win another gold then the press would no doubt blame her for it.

With heavy feet and an even heavier heart, she walked back down the hallway to exit the building.

No matter how much her heart ached, this was how it had to be. After the Games were over … well, then Mitch better watch out. She was going to do everything she could to claim back her man.

J
ulia didn’t normally listen
to music before a dive. Mitch had convinced her to try it at the world championships, and she had to admit the variety of songs on her playlist soothed her. Today, however, the music didn’t seem to help at all. Her nerves were rattling out a hyperactive beat that, if they were in time with the songs, wouldn’t be so bad. However, her nerves threatened to explode into puddle at her feet like the water dripping off after a dive.

Today was her event. Finally.

The last week had been practice, practice, practice. She had gone to watch Mitch race, but she’d made sure she didn’t attract any media attention. Mitch had seen her and nodded. No special smile. Or even a wink. He won two more events and ended up with a total of four gold and one silver. His Olympics had been a huge success. She was happy for him, while inside she cried at how her hope for a new start with Mitch was ripped away from them again.

She’d pushed those emotions to the bottom of her feet.

Thankfully, the press hadn’t seemed to notice they weren’t spending time together. The fact Brett was caught kissing a young gymnast from Canada had taken the heat off her and Mitch. She pitied the PR person assigned to deal with him. She didn’t know what was going on with Brett, but he was making a name for himself at these Games and it wasn’t from his performance in the pool.

Julia stood and rolled her neck, loosening the tight muscles. As she swiveled, pink painted toenails filled her vision.

Trina.

The last person she wanted to see before she was about to compete, even if she was her teammate. Trina had been a little shit the last couple of days, bringing up the bribery scandal by asking Julia how many of the Olympic judges were Facebook friends with her. It had taken everything within her to walk away. She wanted to attract the press with her good diving. Not because of a fight with Trina.

Summoning a polite smile, she completed her neck revolution and pulled her headphones off so they hung around her neck.

“Hey, Trina.”

“Julia.”

The other woman stood there, not saying anything else. What did she want? The silence stretched between them. Well, screw this stress. The event was about to start.

“Is there something you want, Trina? Something other than to take cheap shots?”

“No, I just thought I’d come by and wish you luck.”

Any other competitor and Julia would have believed they really did wish her luck. But Trina never did anything out of the goodness of her heart. However calling her out for her insincerity wouldn’t be a good idea either.

“Thanks, and good luck to you too. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take some time to prepare before I get out onto the platform.”

“Enjoy it, because you certainly won’t be standing on the winner’s podium. I’ll wave to you from the number one spot.”

Julia jammed her headphones back on her head. She wouldn’t let Trina psych her out. No matter what happened, she would give everything she had to her dives. And it would be her waving from the number one position, not Trina.