Taryn sat up, blinking against the shift in blood flow to her head after having been lying down for so long. She drew her legs in, taking up only one end of the sofa now, rather than the whole blasted thing. An elbow resting on the back, she watched Matt in the kitchen.
"I guess," she said, flicking her gaze to the stack and back again. "Or they're all just too... Plain? Too... Proper?" She sighed. "Might help if I had any idea at all what I want."
She rubbed her temple with her other hand. "You pick."