a little explicit

It was the first times our hands touched that I did two things: know that she was nervous too, and help her up on to the rotating platform. We glided with a sort of staccato tumbling towards the floating horses. The bright colors, the dreadful music... the crude novelty was a bit too much so I said to her ‘this will be one of the things we never do again.’  She responded at once saying my inability to avoid mistakes made her right for me.
I held out my hand again to help her up on to one of the horses and she took it. While she was eying the saddle, preparing to get on top, I caught an expression of innocence on her face.
She didn’t answer. She put both her hands desperately on the pole she sat against and cocked her head back. She settled and drew an eyebrow provocatively, “Aren’t you going to saddle-up?”

I leaned back against my horse and furrowed my eyebrows, “Aren’t you just a regular?”

“Do you mean that because I know what saddling-up means that I ride horses often?”
She might have pressed her chest forward to the pole.

“Aren’t we getting a little too explicit?” I tightened my brows.

“We?” She said wide-eyed.