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《No Touching Allowed》全部章節：第 1 章 - 第 10 章

10 章節

Chapter 1 – Zara on Stage

The first beat of the bass hits me right in the chest, and I swear my pulse syncs to the rhythm. Out here, under the hot pink and electric blue lights, I’m not Zara-who-worries-about-the-electric-bill or Zara-who-has-to-pretend-she’s-fine-when-she’s-not. I’m Zara Queen. Performer. Goddess. Whatever they want me to be.I know they’re all watching me—men with their mouths half open, women giving me that mix of envy and curiosity, the kind that says, “I wish I could do that.” I feel the stares slide over my skin like warm oil. The sequins on my two-piece catch the light with every turn, sparkling like I’ve got stars sewn into the fabric.The song is loud enough to make the floor vibrate under my heels. I let it carry me, let the music curl through my limbs, bending my spine and stretching my arms out toward the crowd. My hair catches the air when I spin, my lips curling into a smirk I’ve practiced a thousand times in the mirror but still somehow feels natural up here.I make eye contact

Chapter 2 – Bad News at Home

By the time I’m in the alley behind the club, I’ve already ripped off my heels and shoved them in my bag. The pavement is wet from the rain, slick enough that I nearly slip twice on the way to my car. My adrenaline is buzzing in all the wrong ways now.The drive home is a blur of red lights and windshield wipers squealing against the glass. My landlord’s half-finished warning loops in my head like a broken record. The water—what? Overflowed? Burst? Turned my kitchen into a swimming pool?I try calling him back twice, but both times it goes straight to voicemail. I don’t even know why I’m so impatient. It’s not like I can magically fix whatever disaster is waiting for me.The rain gets heavier as I pull onto my street, the kind of steady downpour that makes the air smell like wet asphalt. My headlights sweep over the front of my apartment building, and my stomach drops. There’s water—actual, glistening water—spilling down the concrete steps that lead to my front door.I throw the car i

Chapter 3 – An Unlikely Offer

The rain hasn’t let up by the time I pull into a quiet residential street. It’s the kind of neighborhood where the lawns are too neat, the houses too close together, and the porch lights glow like they’ve been waiting for company.My GPS announces, “You have arrived at your destination,” in that smug tone that makes me want to argue with it. The address Marissa sent me matches the house in front of me—a simple two-story with a dark blue exterior and white trim. The front porch light is on, but the blinds in the windows are drawn tight.I sit there for a second, engine running, palms sweating on the steering wheel. Every nerve in my body is screaming, Turn around. This is a bad idea.It’s not like I have options.I check my phone again. There’s a new text from Marissa: Just knock. He’ll be grumpy, but he won’t let you sleep in your car.Grumpy is putting it nicely. I remember Liam Carter from that barbecue—tall, broad, and radiating the kind of serious that makes you straighten your po

Chapter 4 – The Agreement

The smell of coffee pulls me out of sleep before I’m ready. For a second, I forget where I am, my brain still stuck in the memory of peeling paint and the steady drip-drip-drip of water in my old apartment. Then I hear the faint clatter of mugs downstairs and remember—Liam Carter’s house. Spare room. Temporary.The floor is cool under my feet as I shuffle toward the kitchen, my hair an unbrushed mess and my sweatshirt hanging loose off one shoulder. I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear voices—Liam’s low rumble and a lighter, quicker voice that must belong to his daughter, Emily.“She’s still sleeping?” she asks.“She got in late,” Liam says. “Let her rest.”I turn the corner into the kitchen, and both of them look up. Emily’s sitting at the table with a half-eaten bowl of cereal, and Liam’s leaning against the counter, coffee in hand.“Morning,” I say, aiming for casual.“Morning,” Emily says brightly.Liam nods once. “Coffee?”“Yes, please,” I say, trying not to sound too grateful

Chapter 5 – Second Morning Clash

I don’t usually consider myself a morning person, but if I’m awake, I want the morning to be alive. Music, coffee, maybe a little dancing around in my pajamas—nothing crazy, just… not dead silence.The thing about Liam Carter’s house? It feels like a library. Even the floorboards seem to creak politely.So, at eight-thirty, after a long hot shower and a caffeine kick from the extra-strong coffee he left in the pot, I decide it’s time to add a little life to the place. I pull up my playlist—bright, poppy, perfect—and crank the volume on my phone’s speaker.It’s not ear-splitting, but it’s definitely not background noise either. I’m halfway through making scrambled eggs, dancing barefoot in front of the stove, when I hear it—the heavy tread of footsteps coming down the hall.A moment later, Liam appears in the kitchen doorway, hair mussed, T-shirt rumpled, and eyes narrowed like I’ve just committed a federal crime.“Is this some kind of test?” he asks, voice low but sharp.I grin, flipp

Chapter 6 – Talking to His Daughter

When I first walked through Liam Carter’s front door days ago, drenched from the rain and juggling my overnight bag, I noticed her right away—big brown eyes peeking around the corner of the hallway, like she’d been waiting for me.Emily.She didn’t hide. Didn’t mumble. Didn’t need coaxing.“You’re Zara,” she said, voice clear and sure. “Daddy told me you dance.”I’d smiled, instantly charmed. “That’s me. I also make the best hot chocolate in the world. True fact.”Her eyes lit up. “Better than Starbucks?”“Way better,” I whispered like it was classified information.From that first moment, it was like we’d known each other forever.Now, a few days in, Liam looks vaguely irritated every time he sees us together. Which is perfect, because this afternoon we’re sitting on the living room floor building the world’s tallest Lego tower while he’s trying to read something boring at the dining table.“Careful,” I tell Emily, hand

Chapter 7 – Clash in the Kitchen

I’m not saying my cooking style is messy… but if the Food Network ever needed a show called “Cooking in Controlled Chaos,” I’d be their girl.The kitchen smells amazing—garlic sizzling in butter, onions softening, pasta boiling away—and also looks like a rainbow exploded in it. Cutting boards with half-chopped vegetables, a smear of tomato sauce on the counter, an open bag of shredded cheese leaning against a box of crackers that I may or may not have been snacking on mid-recipe.Emily sits at the counter, swinging her legs and grinning like this is the most fun she’s had all week. “Can I stir again?”“Absolutely,” I say, handing her the spoon. “You’re the official sauce queen.”She dips it into the pan, stirring carefully while I grab a handful of fresh basil and start tearing it over the pot. Leaves scatter across the stovetop, some fluttering to the floor. Oops.That’s when Liam walks in.He stops dead in the doorway, eyes scanning the ro

Chapter 8 – Unwanted Curiosity

By the time my shift ends at Club Mirage, it’s close to two in the morning, and my feet are screaming at me in languages I didn’t even know they spoke. High heels are glamorous until you’ve been wearing them for six hours, spinning, twirling, strutting, smiling at strangers while pretending you don’t feel the dull ache of loneliness at the pit of your stomach.But the music, the lights, the way the crowd cheers—it always covers it up, at least until the show is over.I swipe off the glittery lip gloss in the dressing room, but I’m still in my stage outfit when I leave. My regular clothes are stuffed in my duffel bag, but honestly, I didn’t have the energy to change. Sequined shorts and a cropped top with rhinestones across the neckline aren’t exactly subtle, but they’re also not the worst thing I’ve ever walked home in.The Uber drops me off in front of Liam’s ho

Chapter 9 – Judgment and Defensiveness

Morning sunlight creeps across the ceiling when I open my eyes. My head feels heavy, but not because of work—because of Liam. Or more specifically, because of the way Liam looked at me last night.Like he didn’t want to look. Like he couldn’t stop.That flicker in his eyes has been replaying in my brain like a song stuck on repeat, and I hate it. Because the last thing I need is to wonder what my grumpy, judgmental, emotionally constipated roommate thinks of me.Dragging myself out of bed, I tie my hair into a messy bun and pull on a loose T-shirt with shorts. I don’t exactly feel like strutting around in rhinestones when Liam Carter already caught me looking like a walking disco ball.When I walk downstairs, he’s in the kitchen. Of course. Standing there like some kind of domestic ad, pouring black coffee into a mug, all tall and broad in a navy shirt that clings way too well to his sho

Chapter 10 – The Accidental Touch

The morning passes in a blur after Emily’s small voice shattered the fight. I’d plastered on a smile, crouched down, and reassured her everything was fine. Liam mumbled something about “grown-up disagreements,” and she seemed satisfied enough to scamper off with her rabbit.But me? I wasn’t fine. Not even close.His words echo in my head like a bad song: You deserve better than that stage.It should’ve made me furious. It did. But buried inside the anger was something else—something dangerous. Because if I peeled away the judgment, the arrogance, the presumption… there was care. Care I wasn’t sure I wanted from him.I spend most of the day in my room, fiddling with makeup brushes, reorganizing my jewelry, even re-glittering a pair of heels that lost some shine. Anything to avoid running into him. But the universe loves irony, and apparently so does fate,

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