With careful nudges of her head, Lee guides his hand up a little higher, up into her hair - she likes it when he touches her there, which is not something she allows just anyone to do. She's protective of her hair, it's real and not a wig, it took her years to grow it out this long, it's important to her. The thought of not having it makes her sick. So, no, not everyone gets to touch it.
She moves her hands to his chest, braces them there. It feels good. She was never really able to relax at the Chelsea, knowing it was inevitable someone would come bursting in, even if they didn't mean anything bad by it, or weren't aware anyone was in there.