Free Fighting to Win (The Elite Book 1) by Nicole Flockton

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