Yes, yes, Shae had seen the other sketches. In all actuality, the "nudity" was something experimental, conceptual: collections of vague outlines and approximated shapes rather than anatomically correct depictions. Shae had realized this somewhere around the third or fourth pair of shapeless tits, about the same time it occurred to him that Hustler might have been a more satisfying option.
Contrary to how it may have seemed, he wasn't upset or offended by the drawing at all. It had caught him a little off-guard to see his dopplegänger staring back at him from the page, but he considered it more or less a compliment; he'd tried not to read too deeply between the lines. But in his current state of psychological desperation (and slight physical inebriation), nothing was off-limits. If there was some unspoken meaning underlying that sketch, he'd know by the end of the night- if not sooner.
"Evah since you lef' it at mah 'pahtment," he said flatly, closing the book with a slap! and tossing it onto the coffee table. Then he shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it haphazardly onto the couch behind, and commenced with the process of disrobing.
"You wan' draw a picshuh lahk dat...dere's a' easiuh way ta do it."