She doesn't like the way his face paint smears on her fingertips. She doesn't like the way it tastes like concrete and stale dust bunnies. She doesn't like his half-cocky, half-amused little grin. She doesn't like the way his insults aren't even insulting. He could at least make the effort.
She does like the way his hand fits across her mouth, and the way he sighs when she bites down on his fingers. She does like the way he aggravates her with body language alone, daring her to make a move, to put him in his place. She does like taking him somewhere they might get caught, and trying her best to make him vocal. She does like to watch his face when he cums, and she does like that she's the only one who's seen it.
But she doesn't like him. Oh, no. She hates him.
That's how it works.